


Secrets and Challenges

by Acidqueen (syredronning)



Series: Kirk/Spock/McCoy Zine Series [3]
Category: Star Trek: The Original Series
Genre: Established Relationship, Kinky, M/M, Multi, Polyamory
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-06-16
Updated: 2013-06-16
Packaged: 2017-12-15 04:52:47
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 48,919
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/845540
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/syredronning/pseuds/Acidqueen
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>In need of a break after their encounter with Sybok, Jim, Leonard and Spock return to their house in the countryside only to find that they can't easily escape dealing with the aftermath - and other, unexpected challenges.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Secrets and Challenges

**Author's Note:**

> The story takes place after and makes references to ST V. It features an established, symmetrical threesome relationship between Jim Kirk, Leonard McCoy and Spock in the original timeline.
> 
> The story was originally intended to get published in another "Dark Fire" zine that unfortunately didn't happen so far, so I finally decided to publish it online. Written 2008.
> 
> Many thanks to shagungu, my wonderful beta reader and cheerleader of all happy poly writings :)

Originally, they were going on yet another camping and climbing trip. They had intended to close the circle from the start of their last mission and give it a nicer ending. But then the snow unexpectedly had come in, and they'd frozen even in their tent. It was a sensible solution to go to their house in the countryside and spend the rest of their leave there.

The only problem was that the house somehow didn't fit their mood at the moment. It had been a place of sensual frolicking and sexual experimentation the last time they had been there; but this time, with Sybok's death and the memories of their shared hidden pains still lingering between them, it didn't feel like the right place to be. Being out in the nature, in the wild forest of the National Park, allowed them to breathe freely and be together or not, closer or less close; but the house would force them together, and expectations voiced or not, they would feel under more pressure to resolve the situation by talking things through…or by other means. 

So all in all, Kirk really didn't feel like going there, and felt that McCoy hadn't been too keen either, but Spock had won the discussion by logic. Having a master of rational thinking in their midst had its drawbacks at times.

And so they'd let themselves be beamed out and rented a flitter. 

Spock sat at his side like the last time they flew to the house, but instead of working he sat in a meditative pose with eyes closed and hands folded in his lap. Considering that McCoy was sleeping in the back seat, it made the flight rather boring. Kirk switched off the autopilot. At least he could have a bit of flying fun, and so he manually steered the flitter through the pleasant surroundings. 

The late autumn already covered the land here too, the colors all shades of red and brown with only a little green of the evergreen trees and bushes thrown into. He felt the twinge of age again, more like a band that looped around his existence than in his own bones. The mission had brought some much-missed activity back in his life, and he looked forward to the next one…whenever it would come. Contrary to what they had first promised him, the Enterprise was more often in for repairs or used for milk runs than for the really interesting missions. Maybe things would change now that they'd proven their worth once again.

Beyond the hills in the foreground, the house came in sight, and he circled in on it. Right in front of it, he accelerated for a moment and swooped over it before he brought the flitter down for rather brash landing. 

Out of the corner of his eye, he could see Spock's critical gaze. Turning his head to the Vulcan, he cocked him a grin, knowing that even though Spock didn't like that particular kind of fun, he'd be tolerant enough to not mention it.

Spock removed his seat belt. "The house is prepared," he stated the obvious. 

Kirk looked at the windows and indeed, the storm shutters were already gone. "Moira was quick," he said.

Moira, the housekeeper which they had kind of inherited from Kirk's friend and former owner of the house, was one of those old-school lesbians who never wore anything but jeans and always looked as if she had just repaired her flitter, but she was cool with all those special gimmicks of the house and never showed up when they were here. At the beginning Kirk had been her contact person, but he'd never really found a common ground with her; therefore it was now McCoy's job to stay in touch. And he was good at it.

"Let's go inside," Kirk said and loosened his seatbelt. He turned and gently touched McCoy's shoulder. "Wake up, Bones." When the sleeping figure didn't move, he exchanged a worried gaze with Spock. 

McCoy had a lost some weight even before their collision with Sybok, and had looked unwell over the course of the mission. He had been checked at Starfleet Medical afterwards, but they didn't find anything — so far, Kirk thought. He didn't trust the results, but of course Bones denied that he might be ill. 

Doctors always admitted it last. 

"Couldn't you…?" he asked, but Spock shook his head, and Kirk didn't really expect Spock to examine McCoy's current health state by a mind meld. Although they were bonded, Spock kept largely out of the privacy of their minds when not explicitly invited. And McCoy didn't seem able to consent right now. 

Kirk knelt on his seat to get closer to his friend. "Hey, Bones!" he said more loudly, and patted his shoulder. 

McCoy's eyes flew open, and he bolted upwards. "Where's the emergency?"

"It's alright," Kirk said soothingly, holding him back. "We've arrived, and you didn't react when I tried to wake you up."

"Ah." McCoy yawned and rubbed his eyes, forcing the sleep away. "Had a weird dream. Guess I incorporated you right into it." He looked outside through the front window. "Looks good."

They went out of the flitter, with Kirk helping McCoy a little too much, which earned him a deep frown from the doctor, and walked to the house. The back door was locked but opened to Kirk's voice code. The kitchen was empty, but the fridge was already running and there was a note on the table. 

McCoy took it up and read it. "Moira says we'll get fresh eggs, bread and fruit delivered from the grocery every morning, like we wanted. They'll place it just outside the back door." 

"Great," Kirk said. "Let's settle in."

It took only half an hour until their luggage was inside and distributed in the bedroom, as they only had their camping gear with them. It would limit their choice of clothes, but at least they had some pants, shirts and their bathrobes here. It was enough for the next few days, and if need be, they could go to the nearest city for shopping.

"I think I'll take a shower," McCoy said and took one of the towels. Contrary to usual, he didn't strip in front of them, but vanished into the corridor in full gear.

Kirk looked after him, his concerns deepening. "Did you notice that he's been wearing bulky sweaters lately?" he said. "As if we can't see that he's lost weight once again. He's extremely skinny at the moment, thin as a stick." 

"I know." Spock removed his pullover and shirt and took a fresh set of out his backpack, placing it on the bed. "I offered him some assistance for self-healing lately, but he declined it."

"So he is ill?" Kirk asked sharply.

"The results of the checkup indicated otherwise, and I don't know either, Jim. But there are meditative routines that could keep something upcoming under control, and I offered to support him in those routines."

"And he said no?" 

Spock stripped his boots and pants. "His reasoning was illogical, even by his standards. I assume that he was reluctant to get me involved in what he sees as his own problem at the moment."

"That's really stupid." Kirk paced up and down the room. "As if it isn't our problem too. I really don't like that. It feels a lot like…" He stopped, paling.

"Do you think it's coming back? The xenopolycythemia? Or some other deadly disease?" 

Spock drew closer and put a calming hand on his shoulder. "I think that he worked too much before the mission. To be reminded of his father's demise like this and being forced into a battle between Sybok and us put another strain on him. He feels tired and exhausted and fears that there could be an undetected illness, but I doubt that there is one. He only reacts as he did in the past, by withdrawing from us."

"Well, I couldn't stop him then, but I sure can stop him now if he does something stupid," Kirk stated, determined.

"I agree." Spock took a towel out of the nearby closet and gave a second one to Kirk. "I will join him in the shower. And I think there is room enough for three."

Kirk shifted the towel in his hands, staring down at it. "Go ahead. I'll join you in a minute."

Spock lifted a brow, but then nodded and left him. 

With verve, Kirk threw the towel on the bed and went back to pacing. There had been a time when he'd thought that Spock was the most bull-headed person he knew, but he'd long ago figured out that McCoy was at least equal to the Vulcan. And both could be as closed-mouthed as clams when they didn't want to talk about something — and in those cases, not even a direct order helped much. They just cocked one of those irritating eyebrows at him and steered him away from the topic. There was a chance that Spock would be able to get more information from McCoy than Kirk right now, and he didn't want to spoil that chance. It was obvious that Spock was just as concerned and had given some thought to the situation; he wasn't alone in this. This time, they wouldn't McCoy let get away with platitudes and subterfuge. 

In his pants' right pocket, Kirk could feel the key of the flitter, and he pulled it out. Normally, he placed it in the kitchen cabinet, but this time, he'd rather put it somewhere more secure. After thinking for a moment, he went to Spock's backpack and slipped it into one of the small, hidden pockets that Spock never used. McCoy might throw around Kirk's backpack when annoyed enough, but wouldn't ever touch Spock's.

In the distance, he heard his lovers talking in the shower, and an occasional laugh from McCoy told him that his mood was improving. He still waited until the water stopped; only then did he shed his clothes and go to the bathroom himself.

"You missed the fun," McCoy said with a big grin. He was already clad in his bathrobe and closing the belt. 

"I'm sure there's more chance for fun in the next days," Kirk said, trying to ignore the way the soft cotton hung over McCoy's extremely bony shoulders.

"We thought about preparing dinner," Spock said.

"Fine by me. I'll eat anything you cook." Kirk slipped into the large shower stall. "As long as I don't have to prepare it."

"We wouldn't let you anyway," McCoy said. "Last time you tried _penne arrabiata_ , even Spock needed a fire extinguisher." 

"That is a largely exaggerated statement, doctor," the Vulcan said. 

"You had four glasses of soy milk," McCoy said. They moved to the door together.

"That is only slightly more than my usual intake over the course of the evening," Spock said, and Kirk listened to their debate until their voices disappeared in the distance. 

He shook his head and smiled. Some things would always stay the same — and he was glad of it.

*

They had a rice dish with a mixture of available vegetables from the freezer, with a light Thai curry and coconut flavor. Not necessarily Kirk's favorite, but at least he didn't have to cook. 

The dishes in the washer, they went to the living room area without any real idea what to do with themselves. Kirk took a book from the shelves, one of those he'd brought with him on a short trip in between. It was a collection of poems about the sea, but after a brief look at it, he put it away. He wasn't in the right mood for this one. In fact, he wasn't in the right mood for anything. And his friends seemed to share the sentiment. McCoy hung in the corner of the smaller couch, yawing as if he was ready to go to sleep, and Spock sat in the single armchair, gazing down on a padd on the armrest, obviously not feeling like playing the Vulcan harp tonight.

"So, what are we going to do?" Kirk asked after a while, when his pacing around the room hadn't been enough to signal them his brooding energy.

McCoy shrugged. "No idea." He scratched his neck, then straightened the front of his shirt. 

"I'm bored," Kirk said, not above being the crotchety child.

"Guessed as much," McCoy answered dryly. "But there's no fire to make, no beans to bake, no singing, and no bottle of bourbon tonight."

"We didn't have one last night either," Kirk reminded him.

"Right. We were sitting in front of a too small fire and freezing."

"I guess you're happy the snow forced us to leave, Bones."

"Yeah." McCoy waved his hand. "You like that damn park as if it was your home base, but I'm feeling a lot better in a house."

"Hey, you're the one pretending to be a cowboy."

"My feet are fine in their boots, but my bones are better off in a real bed instead of a sleeping bag."

"There's a high-quality self-inflating mattress under that sleeping bag, and you know it," Kirk stated. "Spock, did you have any problems with your back?"

The Vulcan, who had stayed quiet through all their bantering, lifted his eyes from the padd. "Of course not. It is simply the doctor's abundant imagination that make him think that an old bed is better suited for sleeping than a mattress based on modern technology."

"You, mister –" McCoy pointed at the Vulcan "– better be quiet. I heard your knees aching this morning."

"Really?" Spock raised a brow. "This would be a miracle, for human ears rarely work that well."

"You don't deny it, right? They made that characteristic little crack knees make when the kneecaps don't sit quite as they should." 

"Which will undoubtedly lead to an inspection by you," Spock said with the light frown that he reserved for unpleasant events in his life…like raw, bloody steaks in Kirk's fridge. 

McCoy raised both his arms, palms facing up. "What do I know — keep your squealing caps if that's what you want, you bullheaded Vulcan." 

"Gentlemen –" Kirk said, feeling that their discussion was quickly deteriorating. "All I wanted to know is what we're going to do tonight."

"We? I don't feel like doing anything," McCoy stated and rose from the couch, adjusting the waistline of his pants. "Therefore, I'm going to bed now. And don't dare wake me up when you come in."

He went out of the room, leaving them slightly dumbfounded.

"Was he really angry?" Kirk asked surprised.

Spock slightly shook his head. "I doubt it."

"So what the heck is he doing? He's usually the last one to go to bed."

"I assume it is just another distraction on his part."

Kirk sighed and sat down on the couch, close to Spock's armchair. "It all looked so good at the end of the mission. Remember when we stood at that big old steering wheel that they gave us on this new observation deck? It felt like homecoming. Emotionally. Like taking another step. I almost wondered that people can't see what we really mean to each other, because I felt it was written all over our faces."

"Some see it," Spock said.

"Yes. Uhura, for example."

Spock nodded. 

"Communication officers know everything," Kirk recited a Starfleet saying. Then he took a deep breath. "He's slipping out of our reach, somehow, for some reason. We need to show him that he can't simply get away with it. Remember what we tried last time with you? The claiming?"

Spock slowly nodded. "It may work in a similar way with him."

"We need a symbol…something that he can use as a positive anchor." 

"I have an idea." Spock went up and vanished, returning after a short time with a small box in his hand.

"I recently saw this jewel," he said and sat down next to Kirk. He opened the box, displaying a medium-sized, shining triangle of red color with a hole in its center. "They only had one, but it appealed to me. Somehow, it could almost be Vulcan."

Kirk remembered the big jewels Sarek often wore, and while human men had never quite adapted such kind of jewelry, he could see why Spock liked it enough to spend money on it.

"It's beautiful. Vulcan and earth, a triangular jewel red like a heart." He lifted it out of the box and touched it. The color intensified under his fingertips.

"It is a life stone?" Kirk gasped. "It must have been incredibly expensive, Spock. I've read about it, it changes color when it comes into contact with bioelectrical fields." 

"It is indeed a life stone, and the expense was of no consideration," Spock said calmly. He took it out of Kirk's hands and put it in his palm. "It is interesting," he said as he eyed the color change. "A human's touch appears to evoke a stronger reaction." 

"You're right. The change is barely visible in your hand." Kirk smiled. "So much for vibrant energy. What about kicking some emotions in?"

Spock only raised a brow. 

"Alright." Kirk took the stone again. "So all we need now is…" He paused.

Spock tilted his head, waiting.

"I'll get what we need," Kirk said. He gave the stone back to Spock and left. When he returned, he had a little lock and a short chain with him. 

"That should fit," he said. "The lock is made of duranium and works with a normal key that I've got hidden in the dungeon. He won't find it." He looked at Spock. "Changing your mind?" he asked as he perceived Spock's thoughtful gaze. The Vulcan looked like he was facing a particularly challenging problem — one that couldn't be solved by using complex mathematics and the fleet database. 

"I have little experience in the matter, as you well know. However, in my situation the last time, I was consenting to your actions. I am not sure if Leonard is in the same…accepting mood."

Kirk laughed quietly. "I doubt that. But I'm tired of him spinning away from us. He doesn't want to talk about it, fine. But I'm not going to let him walk away from us like in the past."

"We are not the same people as on our first mission."

"Right, but he's still prone to walk away and do his own thing, trying to not be a burden to anyone…that's how he tried to get back to Genesis with you in his head, and what good did it do? There are times when he needs help just like anyone else." 

Spock closed his hand around the triangle and opened it again. The darker red stayed only for a fleeting moment. "As I said, I do not have the experience that you have, so I will rely on your expertise in the matter at hand. You may try it — but…be careful."

Kirk put his hand over the stone in Spock's palm. "We will, Spock," he said. "You and I." He lifted his hand, and a brilliant red stayed for a while before it slowly decayed. "We'll do it tomorrow morning. No reason to wake him up now." He put the chain, the lock and the jewel on the table. "Which leaves us with lots of time…" He turned to Spock. 

The Vulcan tilted his head, his eyes darting to the padd. "I wanted to read –" he started, but Kirk put a finger on his lips. "Can't it wait, Spock? Until after our vacation?"

Spock gave it a moment of reflection. "It is important, but not urgent." 

"Thank you." Kirk leaned in for a kiss. "Spock, come on," he said as the Vulcan didn't react. "Indulge me, my love. It's been a long time." 

"Only a –" Spock's words died as Kirk pressed his lips onto the Vulcan's mouth, quickly slipping a tongue inside. There was a lot to be said for touching fingertips, but Kirk always had been a kisser first and foremost. Thankfully, Spock had gotten used to it and responded with similar movements. Spock's fingers were used to it too, and found their way into Kirk's pants, a sure sign that the Vulcan didn't feel aroused himself. 

"Is it a big sacrifice?" Kirk asked in a whisper.

Spock shook his head. "Being with you is never a sacrifice. In a way, solely concentrating on your pleasure is more satisfying than splitting my concentration between both of us."

"But I love it when you join me."

"I am joining you," Spock said and, as if to underline the statement, began stroking Kirk's erection to full life. "Or don't you feel my actions?" he asked and lightly snipped his fingers against the solid shaft.

"I do," Kirk gasped, raising his left hand in a gesture of 'slow down'.

"So now that this point is clear, let me show you how I further….join you," Spock said, and went to his knees between Kirk's legs, opening the pants.

Kirk leaned back, a first deep moan escaping his throat as Spock took him fully into his mouth. Spock's fingers weren't on his forehead, there was nothing like a real meld, and still his lover could read him like a book, playing him as expertly as the Vulcan harp. Spock let him dance on the brink of orgasm for a while, until Kirk was pleading for release — then the Vulcan slowly tipped him over the final threshold and he came like a blocked cannon, achingly hard and fighting for his release. For once he took Spock's head and pushed it deeper down, wanting to make more contact to ease the pain of the barely reached orgasm. His body shook, straining to shoot one load and another out, and he gasped and groaned over the exhausting struggle. Finally it was over and he sank into the couch, his body limp.

"That was sadistic," he stated when he could speak again.

"I am merely fascinated by the way humans pass the point of no return," Spock said, his hands still resting on Kirk's thighs left and right.

"You make it sound like an experiment," Kirk said with a little frown, but smiled. His eyelids felt rather heavy, and he had to fight to keep them open. Spock closed the pants around his groin. It was a weirdly caring gesture, Kirk thought.

"Did I already tell you today that I love you, Spock?"

Spock looked up at him. "It is not a daily requirement." 

"No, but I feel like making it one. Just because." He pulled Spock up and into a kiss, tasting his own cum in his lover's mouth. "I'm dead tired. Come to bed with me?"

"Yes, Jim." Spock stood and pulled him up. Together they went into the bedroom, trying to make as little noise as possible as they slipped under the sheets next to their third.

*

The morning was gray, and if it weren't too warm outside, Kirk would've thought that the snow had followed them. He could almost imagine heavy snowflakes quietly covering the earth around them. He hadn't seen the house in real winter so far, and almost regretted that this time wouldn't offer an opportunity for that either. But he wasn't going to play with the weather controls around here, he thought with a lazy yawn.

The bed felt rather empty, with both his lovers already gone. Kirk sat up and rubbed his eyes, remembering what they'd talked about last night, Spock and he. Maybe the planned action wasn't necessary, and Spock had managed to talk with McCoy. 

As long as Kirk wasn't around taking sides — and as long as they didn't tumble over one of those subjects on which they disagreed vigorously — there was no need for Spock and McCoy to keep the façade of animosity that made the outer world often misunderstand their relationship. They probably needled each other even when he wasn't there, but it would never reach the same emotional height. They just understood each other too well for that by now, having literally walked in the other one's shoes for a while.

The hope persisted until he walked into the kitchen, clad in a bathrobe. There, he only found Spock, already fully dressed. 

"Where's Bones?" Kirk asked, taking a cup of fresh coffee.

"Probably outside. He left extremely early." 

"And you didn't notice?"

Spock cocked a brow. "I'm not his keeper, Jim."

"I'm not either, and I still don't like it."

"You're too used to having him by your side. He is a grown man."

"Funny how such habits can evolve over just thirty years," Kirk said overly sharply, instantly pedaling back when he noticed it himself. "Sorry, Spock."

Spock only shrugged.

"I'll take a shower," Kirk said and put the coffee onto the high kitchen table, ignoring the inviting barstools. 

It took over three hours before they heard McCoy return through the main door. He rummaged in the entry, taking off the coat and the boots before he went inside and met them in the living room.

"Good morning, Bones." Kirk looked up from a book. "Come here," he said and patted the small free spot between Spock and himself.

"You're looking rather crowded already," McCoy said. "I think I'll take the armchair."

"I want you to come here, mister," Kirk repeated and moved aside a little. "There's always enough room for a walking stick like you."

McCoy frowned, his wrinkles sharpening. Then he shrugged and went around the low table to join them. 

Kirk turned toward McCoy and put one arm around his shoulder. "Where have you been?" 

"Up on the small mountain to the south-west, watching the sunrise — mother." McCoy stated. "Anything wrong with that?"

"This is supposed to be vacation," Kirk said. "Our vacation. And all you keep doing is avoiding us." 

"Really? Didn't notice." McCoy glanced at Spock. 

"He is correct, doctor," Spock said. "At the moment you show an unusual tendency to keep away from us. The percentage –"

"Oh no," McCoy groaned and raised a hand, "Please, no statistics." 

"And you're just not looking well," Kirk eyed him critically. "You eat like a bird too. What are you trying to do, starve yourself?"

"Not that I know of," McCoy said. But at least he gave them the grace to stare down on his thighs which had lots of space even in his normally tightly fitting, light-brown pants. He clamped his bony fingers around them. "Everything's alright, Jim. I just need to spend a little more time on my own at the moment."

"There's nothing wrong with that," Kirk said. "But there's a lot wrong if you do it in a way that reminds me of your xenopolythemia outbreak."

"Really?" McCoy looked up in surprise. "Well, there's no girl to run away with." 

"And that should improve your case or what?" Kirk pulled the triangle out of his pocket. "You know what that is?" 

"A piece of cut stone?"

"A very special stone." Kirk also took out the chain and lock, and before McCoy found a fitting retort, he put the chain through the triangle, pulled it loosely around McCoy's neck and fastened it with the lock. 

"Jim -?" McCoy was taken aback. He looked down at it, then up to the two men again. 

"It's a reminder, Bones. That you belong to us, and that you're a part of our triangle." Kirk lifted it. "There are three sides, and you're one of them. No escape, Bones." 

McCoy swallowed as he took the stone between his fingers, watching it flare into a deep red. 

"You're not allowed to run away. You're not allowed to pretend that everything's alright when it isn't. And you're going to eat as much as you can, or we're going to force-feed you." Kirk poked McCoy's chest. "We're not letting you get away with it anymore."

McCoy nodded again, wordlessly. His eyes searched Spock's face.

"Jim spoke for both of us," the Vulcan said seriously.

"You're crazy — both of you." McCoy stared down at the symbol again. "Crazy." 

But at least he didn't make a big scene, Kirk thought in relief. Maybe the message had gotten through to him. Or maybe McCoy was just so surprised that his reaction would smolder in the backburner until it exploded in their faces. No matter how long you knew someone, there was always room to learning new things about them.

"Well…" McCoy said, raising his head. "May I go and have a shower — sir?"

"Cut it, Bones," Kirk said. He leaned forward and pulled McCoy into a kiss. It was answered slightly reluctantly, but that was good enough for now. "You know what we're trying to tell you," he whispered when they parted again.

"I know." McCoy put his hands to his left and right on the thighs of his companions, his eyes darting from one to the other. "You're still crazy. Sometimes I don't know why I put up with you. Can't turn my back on you without you two conspiring against me." He went up from the couch. "See you in a while," he said and disappeared towards the bathroom.

Kirk and Spock looked at each other. "It seems that your approach was challenging but acceptable for him," Spock stated.

"We'll see," Kirk said. "A penny for his thoughts…" 

*

McCoy stared at his face in the bathroom mirror. Or rather, he stared at the red triangle around his neck. Chained and locked. Jim was so crazy sometimes. 

He put his fingers on it, watching it deepening in color. He'd forgotten the name of this particular stone, but it was rare and special. Maybe the right thing for a rare and special relationship. 

Maybe he should feel angrier about it than he did, but seeing their concern for him expressed in such an unusual and unexpected way touched something deep in his soul. It wasn't as if he tried to be complicated; it was just that the mission had brought up some issues that he couldn't ignore, somehow. But he also didn't know how to tackle them right away. He definitely needed some more space than he had onboard. But he'd never wanted to make Jim really concerned about it, or even make him remember the xenopolycythemia. He still had their exchange ringing in his ears when he thought about it, his words that he was on a collision course. It wasn't that bad now, but there was something lingering he couldn't name yet. 

Maybe he should let Spock probe around in his mind, after all. 

He sighed. _Alright Bones_ , he chided himself. _You're here with your best friends and lovers. So shut the fuck up with your brooding and enjoy the time, it will be short enough anyway._

Resolutely he undressed and stepped into the shower stall, taking a long, hot, refreshing shower to prepare himself for a nice day.

*

"Wasn't it great?" Kirk said with a broad grin, as they left the rodeo place in the late afternoon and walked along the dusty road to the parking place of their flitter. "Wasn't it good that I found it in the local news?"

"Definitely," McCoy said. They had just spent a marvelous two hours with a great little rodeo show, and it had been a much wanted break from their normal lives. The only drawback of this activity was that Spock hadn't wanted to come with them, partly because of the animals, partly because he disliked being stared at, which would undoubtedly happen at such an event. Unless he kept one of those ugly, old-fashioned caps over his ears.

The flitter looked just as dusty as the road by now, and McCoy couldn't help himself — he raised his finger and traced some symbols into the thin layer of yellow sand.

"Is that Vulcan?" Kirk asked. 

"Uh –" McCoy stared at them. "Think so."

"And what does it mean?" 

McCoy shrugged. "Not totally sure. But the symbols keep popping up in my mind, and I've been too lazy to look them up."

"You didn't want to look them up," Kirk said and grinned.

McCoy faced him with a light frown. "Hey, that's not funny. Of course, it could mean something nice and philosophical, like 'IDIC' or 'peace and free water for everyone' but it just as well could say 'humans are stupid'."

"No Vulcan would say that." Kirk sat in the driver's seat. "Illogical, emotional, overreacting, immature…"

"…and stupid." McCoy slipped into his own seat. "They of course deny that they'd even think that, but I've had some more experience with them after the fal tor pan."

"You didn't like the priests," Kirk said. 

"Well, they didn't know how to treat me, and I didn't know how to take them," McCoy said calmly. "It's a bit hard for a human when it feels like there is a large gap between your doctor and you. No one holding your hand just for a little psychological support. I always felt more like an interesting specimen to them. Of course, they were impressed that I was able to carry around a katra at all, but they would have thought the same if Spock had given it to the ship's cat." 

"We don't have a ship's cat."

"I'm sure they will have one in the future." McCoy twinkled. "Just in case there's no doctor around. Something small and furry to look after."

Kirk laughed as he started the engine. "I've got something bull-headed and furry to look after," he said with a pointed look at McCoy's chest. "Two of that sort, actually."

"You don't say…"

"But I do."

McCoy turned his head to look outside, watching the whirlwind of dust as the flitter rose into the air. "Shall we go and buy some fresh vegetables?"

"No, we got a bunch delivered this morning while you were gone."

"Okay." McCoy looked at the front screen to see where they were going. He was grateful that Kirk hadn't felt like doing any trick flight moves so far. While he disliked beaming, he wasn't too fond of shuttles either. The big ships were something else; they usually ran as smoothly as a ground train. But flitters, like shuttles, could be hectic little bugs, bouncing up and down from the slightest wind. It always made him a bit nervous, unless he managed to ignore the movement long enough to fall asleep.

He shed a gaze at Kirk's hands, boldly holding onto the small steering joystick. He might be nervous, but he never really feared they would crash. It was a dichotomy that went through all of their working relationship, and which he had never been able to resolve. It was part of the reason why he could be both devoted to Kirk and totally mad at him. Come to think of it, he had similar feelings when it came to Spock. 

"Anything wrong, Bones?" Kirk's voice stirred him out of his thoughts. 

McCoy turned toward him. "No, Jim. Just thinking about you and me."

"Something good, I hope." Kirk looked at him with a question in his eyes.

"More along the lines that no matter how much I love you, there are still moments when I want to kick your ass."

"That's your job," Kirk said simply. "And mine is to overrun your concerns, if need be."

"Thanks." McCoy put one hand on the little handle above his head, as the flight got a bit rockier. "Sometimes I wonder why I say anything at all." 

"Because I might overlook something if you don't say it."

"Maybe you should get yourself a holodoc. Spock could program it, make it always contradict him."

"I don't think that would be quite the same fun for Spock." Kirk steered the flitter lower to the ground, following the slope line of a small river.

McCoy fell into silence, a bad taste in his mouth. That's a lot like he'd felt over the course of their last mission — unnecessary, just a third wheel bobbing around and behind the leading men. Brought up for a fun moment, only to be shoved aside again. Maybe they'd be better off with a cat, he thought caustically. Maybe he'd be better off with a cat too, he added when the flitter started weaving from side to side. 

"Bones?" Kirk asked again. 

"Keep your concentration on the flight, Jim," McCoy said and gasped as they almost scratched the top of a tree. 

"Close miss," Kirk said with a grin. 

"You didn't try to hit it — did you?" McCoy asked in disbelief.

"Well, maybe a little."

McCoy shook his head and took a deep breath. Maybe he was out of tune, but Jim Kirk wasn't exactly sane at the moment either. Maybe not from the moment he'd started to climb El Capitaine without any securing measures. Or before that, who knew. Maybe the time warp into the past had wrecked all their brains…maybe.

"We'll be home soon," Kirk said soothingly, but didn't fly a lot more moderately.

"Fine," McCoy said, clamping his hand harder around the handle and not saying another word until they safely landed behind their house.

*

Spock looked up when he heard the humans entering the house through the back door. "I trust you had an enjoyable afternoon?" he asked when they joined him in the living room, their faces slightly heated and their clothes bringing a small cloud of dust and the smell of cattle into the house.

"We did," Kirk said.

"Most of the time," McCoy said, a fresh glass of milk in his hand. 

Spock raised a brow, but McCoy only shrugged, not wanting to talk about. Thankfully, Spock got the hint. 

"We should take a shower," Kirk said.

"Go ahead," McCoy said and took a sip from his glass. "I'll come right after you."

"Oh, I can wait a minute. But I doubt the floor can wait." Kirk pointed with his finger at the dust that already settled.

"Alright." McCoy gulped down the milk and put the glass on the nearby sideboard. They quickly stripped in the corridor before going into the bedroom to fetch the bathrobes. Then they padded into the bathroom and entered the spacious stall. 

"Let me lather you," Kirk said, when they were wet, and switched off the water. 

"Let's lather each other," McCoy replied and snatched the shower gel. After putting generous amount of it in Jim's hand and his own, they began massaging the liquid all over their bodies. 

"Sorry for the flight, Bones," Kirk murmured after a while. "Don't know what came over me."

"Forget it." McCoy kissed him deeply, trying to stick to his self-imposed rule of this morning — having a good time instead of brooding. And feeling Jim's hands all over his chest made things a lot easier. 

Their breathing got harder as they increased their stroking, mirroring each other's caresses. McCoy slipped his soapy left hand around Jim's neck and pulled him into another kiss. Their tongues made a little probing dance around each other, increasing their joined tension with every flicker. They brought their erections together, closing both their hands around them and stroking in unison. It was a very long, slippery road to orgasm, but finally it broke with vehemence, McCoy only a fraction behind Kirk, and they moaned into each other's mouths as they came in spurts. Their body liquids mingled with the soap on their hands and legs, and they began to lather it into their skin too, one sticky mixture. Finally they drew apart, still breathing hard. 

Kirk smiled. "Thanks, Bones," he said and pulled McCoy into a tight embrace. "Love you." 

"Love you too, Jim," McCoy said, soothing through Kirk's hair. He felt a lot better than he had during the last few days. Sometimes sex was a good solution to a problem, at least temporarily.

He took a last deep breath, then pulled away and started the water. They quickly rinsed the mix of fluids down the drain and soon stepped out of the stall, fresh and with nothing but a light smell of cinnamon lingering on their skin. 

*

When they walked into the living room, Spock had already prepared a casserole with fresh vegetables and potatoes, synthetic cheese on his part, normal cheese on top of the other.

They ate in a relaxed mood, the tension of the last evening gone — at least until the small console in the living room chimed.

"Can't be for us," McCoy said with a frown. "Nobody has this number."

Kirk went up. "Maybe one of Max' friends…" He sat down and activated the screen. "It's coming in very slowly."

Spock and McCoy exchanged a gaze, then went up and moved the dishes back into the kitchen. When they returned, Kirk was still in front of the screen. They sat down on the large couch together, waiting for the outcome.

Finally, Kirk went up and walked back to them. "It's Max," he said astonished. "He's on Earth and asking if he can come and visit us."

"Your old friend?" McCoy asked.

"Yes."

"Well…would you like to see him?"

Kirk thought about it for a moment. "In theory, yes."

"In theory?" Spock steepled his fingers, tilting his head. 

Kirk rubbed his chin.

"Maybe, if you sit down and talk to us…" McCoy said, and they moved to make room for him in the middle. 

"I rather sit facing you," Kirk said and took the armchair. "It's a bit complicated to start with. I never really told you about Max. It's got something to do with the don't ask, don't tell attitude that's ingrained in me when it comes to my personal life." He took a deep breath. "I guess Spock has already seen bits and pieces in my mind. Haven't you?" he addressed the Vulcan.

"Only a few images," Spock said reluctantly.

"Well…I got to know Max when we were both at the academy, and even in our first hot weeks together, it was always clear it wouldn't be anything serious — ever. Over the years, we met once in a while, and usually had a good time. Whenever we got together, it was as if we'd never parted; but when we were parted, we also didn't miss each other. You understand?"

"Sure," McCoy said. Spock remained quiet.

"As you know, he was the one to introduce me to this kind of…game we had here last time. He was always more experimental than me, and came around quite a lot. I liked it; we tried more. It wasn't the only ingredient, but became a bigger ingredient over time."

"When did you last see him?" Spock asked. 

"If you mean my last date with him…uh, that was one month after the whale business. We ran into each other and spent the evening together. I know, we three were already getting closer at that time, but I didn't feel as if I was deceiving you."

"We never swore to be exclusive," McCoy said. "At least not as far as I can remember."

"Not officially, no, but with the bond…" 

Spock shook his head. "No, Jim. It may be an implicit agreement for us, but it is not enforced for you by the bond."

"Well." Kirk rubbed over his upper lip. "In any case, that was the last time we met in person. The deal with the house went over subspace and intercom." 

"So let me get that right," McCoy said. "You'd like to see him, but you're nervous because it's your old friend, and you fear that you'll either want to have sex with him and cause problems with us or you won't have sex with him and disappoint your fuck buddy."

"Yeah." Kirk nodded. "That's about right." 

McCoy went up. "I need a drink. Want one too, Jim? Spock?" Spock declined, but Kirk nodded and soon had a glass of bourbon in his hand. McCoy sat down on the armrest next to him, his upper leg touching Kirk's elbow. 

"We're not sworn to exclusivity, Jim. I never expected you to give up women. In fact, I'm surprised that the subject didn't come up earlier in our relationship. You've had quite a monogamous streak."

"So you would just let him come here and watch me have sex with him?" Kirk asked in disbelief.

"Not sure I wanna see it, and not sure I would've chosen this house for a start, but it was his house, and you got a pretty good deal — with the side-deal that he is allowed to come here once in a while, if I remember correctly." 

"But that was mostly with his own dates in mind, not with me," Kirk replied.

"Jim…" Blue eyes focused at him, searching his face. "If he comes here, will you want to have sex with him?"

Kirk floundered. 

"Or do you at least suspect that seeing him will make you want to have sex with him, no matter our opinion?"

"Yes."

"So if we allow him to come here, there'll possibly be sex in the deal, and we will have to figure out how to get along with you sharing someone else's bed for a night."

"You make it sound really bad," Kirk said with a frown.

"Makes no sense to tiptoe around the topic," McCoy said with a shrug. "I'm a doctor, not a priest." He looked at Spock. The Vulcan stared back.

"Your turn," McCoy said.

"I seemed to have missed your opinion," Spock answered, his fingers still resting on his chest. He looked rather frozen.

"Spock, I'm sorry –" Kirk started.

"No, Jim," Spock interrupted him and unfolded his hands. "There is nothing to apologize for. I agree with the doctor that the subject was bound to come up eventually. Therefore, it should not surprise me. However, I must admit that I had not expected it to arise over a man." 

"Does that pose a problem?"

Spock's shoulders sank slightly, in the way they always did when the Vulcan was reluctant to admit something. "It is…unexpected."

"Come on, Spock, what's the problem? You knew more about that Max guy than I did, and you didn't expect Jim to be a virgin with men, did you?" McCoy said surprised. Jim put a hand on his knee. "Shhh, Bones."

"Doctor, I'm willing to admit that it is an irrational attitude, but I would rather accept the challenge of a woman than of a man."

"Challenge?" Kirk asked.

"Maybe not the best choice of words," Spock relented. 

"Only the best Vulcan choice of words," McCoy said. "That's what it's about, isn't it? You're seeing an additional partner as a challenge to our relationship."

"Vulcan bonds are not intended to encompass more than two people. Three is a stretch and mostly possible due to our unique history. Therefore, when one of the partners spends time with someone else, this…is traditionally perceived as a challenge to the bond."

"And it would be worse with a man than a woman?" Kirk asked.

"I guess I always expected you to have temporary relations with women."

"Thanks, Spock," Kirk said flatly. "I haven't had such a thing in over five years, if you care to know."

McCoy's hand squeezed his shoulder, and Kirk relaxed a little. It made no sense pushing Spock into anything, not even to admit that his Vulcan rationality had moments where it failed miserably.

"Let's not talk about it anymore. I'm going to write him and cancel –"

"Wait," McCoy said. "Give us at least a night to think it over, okay? That won't hurt anyone."

"Spock?" Kirk asked, looking at the Vulcan. "I really don't want you to feel forced into anything. You two are the most important people in my life, and I wouldn't want to hurt you over such a thing."

"I know, Jim. I don't want to hurt you either," Spock said. "My reaction is overly emotional, and I will have to meditate on this. We will talk about it tomorrow again."

"Fine." Kirk put down the glass, only now realizing the tension in his fingers. "Bedtime?"

McCoy downed the bourbon and yawned. "Yep."

"I will retreat for a while and join you later." Spock went up and left them.

"Shit," Kirk muttered when he was out of hearing range. 

"Hey, it'll work out, one way or the other," McCoy said softly, his fingers massaging Kirk's tense shoulders. "You're not going to lose him over it. You're stuck with us." 

Kirk looked up at him. "Thanks for reminding me," he said seriously. He pulled McCoy's head down for a kiss; then they went to bed, making sure that there was a free spot for Spock.

*

McCoy awoke in the middle of the night. When he got up, he glanced at the other side of the bed, but it seemed that Spock was still elsewhere in the house. Driven by thirst, McCoy sleepily padded into the kitchen, taking no time to put on shoes or a bathrobe. The water out of the faucet was cool and refreshing, and he took a glass of it into the living room, taking a look outside into the barely lit garden. 

He startled as a dark figure rose from the couch. "Sorry, didn't want to disturb you," he said and turned to leave. But Spock's voice held him back. "Leonard — please, stay."

McCoy drew closer and took a seat next to Spock. The Vulcan offered him a blanket.

"Thanks," McCoy said and huddled into it. "Didn't think I'd be out of bed long enough to need clothes." He put away the glass and leaned into the cushions. For a while, none of them spoke a word.

"Is it that hard for you?" McCoy finally asked. 

"Is it that easy for you?" Spock asked back.

"No."

"It sounded like it was." 

"As I said, I'm just not surprised the issue came up. And I'd long resolved for myself that I wouldn't want to make Jim feel chained down and limited in his choices. At least as long as it was for brief encounters. Now, if he started another relationship, that would be something different…"

The Vulcan heaved a little sigh. "I'm not sure I can really keep those aspects apart. It is not something that is deemed appropriate for Vulcans."

"And that's important to you, how someone would look at it from the outside?"

There was silence again. "It should not be the case…" Spock's voice said softly. "But it is."

"It's alright to have a triangle relationship as long as it's all caused by fate, by links and melds, but it's not okay if the partners meet other people for a negotiated date?" McCoy asked.

"We were in a unique situation…"

"…and it feels as if it's losing this specialness, once there's someone else?"

"Yes." 

"That's a little bit hypocritical, isn't it?" McCoy could sense Spock's frown more than he saw it. "You were ready to accept that Jim might want to have a meaningless fling with some woman, but you're not ready to give him a few hours with a male friend he's known longer than either of us. You want to keep him for yourself."

"Do you not want to keep him for yourself — or between us?"

McCoy shrugged. "Maybe it's that distance problem again, that I always keep a little more apart from you two than I should, but it's not a big problem for me as long as I get along with Max. I'm weird this way. I wouldn't want to share Jim with someone I didn't like. So if Max shows up and I can't stand him, I want to be able to get him out of here as soon as possible. That would be my request in the deal. And, of course, that Max doesn't bring any weird germs into the house. Some kind of health checkup should be done."

"You make it sound so simple." Spock said. 

Hearing a slight amusement creeping into the Vulcan's words, McCoy relaxed. "Must be having a rational day," he murmured. 

An arm closed around his shoulders and pulled him closer. "It is obvious that you cannot resist my influence any longer," a deep voice whispered into his ear.

"In a pig's eye," McCoy muttered, but was kept from saying more by the lips that descended on his. The strain of the evening rapidly turned into arousal over the sensual contact, and with a moan, he leaned more deeply into the embrace. Lean fingers crept under his blanket and fondled him. With a sigh, McCoy pulled back from the kiss. 

"It feels great, Spock, but I'm too tired for big action." 

"You don't have to do anything," Spock murmured. "Let me please you." The fingers increased their stimulation, and McCoy gave into it, allowing the Vulcan to take him on a ride to the moon and back. 

Afterwards, as they lay on the couch in a tight embrace, McCoy was close to falling asleep when he heard Spock saying, "Your assessment of the situation was sensible. I agree with your request. We will talk to Jim tomorrow, and either he will accept the limitations we want to impose on him, or his friend should not come here."

"Fine," McCoy murmured. He slipped into dreams, and when Spock carried him to their bed, all he thought of was a sailing boat on a peaceful little lake. 

*

When McCoy woke up the next morning, Spock had already gone. Jim was lying with his back to him, slightly stirring when he felt him moving.

"Bones…?" Kirk murmured blearily. 

"Everything's okay, Jim," McCoy said. He crouched closer and placed a hand and a kiss on Kirk's shoulder. "I talked with Spock."

Kirk rotated around, suddenly looking very awake. "Really? You mean, it's okay for Max to visit us?"

"Let's say, we may agree to a deal. But let's look for Spock and talk it out between the three of us." 

They went up and took their bathrobes, walking bare-footed into the living-room area. Spock sat down on the smaller couch in a cross-legged position, once again the padd in his lap. On the table, there was a cup and a small bowel with apples and oranges. 

Spock looked up when they entered the room. "Good morning, gentlemen," he said. "There is fresh coffee and tea in the kitchen." 

"I'll get you some," McCoy said to Kirk and vanished. 

Kirk went around the table and sat down next to Spock. "Good morning, my love," he said and leaned in for a brief kiss. "So, you talked about me?" 

"Yes," Spock said and put the padd on the table. "But let us wait until Leonard is back."

Said man soon returned to the living room balancing two cups of coffee. He gave one to Kirk before he sat down in the armchair opposite to them, carefully holding his cup in both hands. 

Kirk took a first gulp from the coffee, ignoring its hotness. "So…what's the verdict?" he asked. McCoy nodded to Spock. 

"He may come here," the Vulcan said. "Whether we agree to anything more depends on our estimation of his character."

"That means…?" Kirk asked slightly confused.

"Let's put it into normal Standard," McCoy chimed in, "If we like him and accept him, it'll be okay with us for you to do something more, whatever that exactly means. If we don't like him, he'll have to leave again. And if there will be more, I want to check on his health status."

Kirk rubbed his chin. "Sounds a bit like an inquisition," he said. "Tricorders and thumb screws." 

"If you do not agree to our terms, he should not come here," Spock stated with a rather final note in his voice. 

"Okay." Kirk rubbed along his neckline in thought. 

"Is it so much that we ask?" Spock said, with a rather deep frown by Vulcan standards. 

"No, not at all," Kirk said soothingly and put his hand on Spock's. "It's totally reasonable. I'll go and send Max a note. Bones, do you think it's okay to use Moira's beam pad?"

"I'm sure." McCoy nodded. "Max and she bought it together. We're always welcome to use it, as long as we pay the transfer costs."

"I prefer flying," Kirk said. "Don't have many chances for that." He got up from the couch and went to the console, composing a little message. McCoy and Spock exchanged a look but quietly waited until their companion returned. 

"He'll beam in tomorrow evening. And he's looking forward to seeing the house again."

"Fine." McCoy emptied his coffee. "I'll have a shower."

"I'd rather hop in the pool," Kirk said. "Anyone want to go swimming with me? No?" Both his friends declined the invitation, and so he left toward the basement.

*

The swimming pool area lay in silence, the lights only going on when Kirk was a few steps into the hall. He quickly stripped and dived into the water without a second thought. Starting with crawl he did a few lanes before switching to backstroke. His eyes came to rest on the ceiling, which had a light blue pattern to it which he only now recognized as a kind of distance meter. The blue lines flashed by as he increased speed, trying to power himself up. 

It was somewhat unreal to him, the whole situation. He'd been in this house a few times with Max and other friends, and only once with Spock and McCoy; and it felt so different depending on who he was with. Maybe it had been a bad idea to buy it — no, not really, but it had an aspect of trying to resurrect old moments of…sexual pleasures he'd shoved aside for a while. 

He switched back to crawl, unwilling to think too much about the situation. Max would come here, and he was sure they'd all get along. Max was the oldest friend he still was in contact with, and he cherished him. He couldn't believe that McCoy and Spock would dislike Max once they'd spent a bit of time with him. Maybe they shouldn't have met here for the first time, but his apartment in SanFran wouldn't have been much better.

No, this place was good as any other, and they'd do just fine in the end. 

He swam a dozen more lanes, then got out and showered. The towel felt rather rough on his skin when he rubbed himself dry. He was much too used to the soft fleet quality, Kirk thought. Or maybe he was getting old and sensitive — no, thanks. With a frown he put the towel over his shoulder, took his bathrobe in his hand and padded out of the pool hall.

When he was in the corridor, his eyes wandered to the door of the dungeon. His legs walked there almost on their own, and he opened the door and switched on the light.

Everything looked like the last time they'd been here, even the few items they had used neatly hanging on their former places again. They hadn't played in the dungeon itself — it wasn't a place that agreed with Spock or McCoy, and Kirk could live with that. But it was a natural habitat for Max. 

Kirk sat down on the bed with a small sigh, overlooking the abundant playthings. He didn't want to endanger the unique relationship with his two lovers — but he couldn't help it. He knew that he was stretching their boundaries with his wishes at the moment, and he hoped that Spock and McCoy would say stop when they really needed to — but he also knew that within the relationship there were moments when all three of them were more reluctant to speak truths that might be unwelcome to the others. It was a tendency that had already developed in their working relationship, but it had increased within their sexual one. Wasn't it weird that they felt that they could share everything — on the one hand — and on the other hand still assume that it was less secure to share said everything? 

Kirk rubbed his forehead. There was a light pulsing headache coming on, and he decided to ask Bones for one of the little red pills. He stood up and, after a last look at the dark leather items on the wall, left the dungeon to go upstairs and rejoin the others.

*

Spock was sitting in the same position as before, his full concentration on the padd when Kirk returned to the living room, clad in the bathrobe again. 

"Where's Bones?" 

"He went for a walk."

"Alone?" Kirk frowned

"I assume he wanted to give us some space," Spock replied, briefly looking up. 

Kirk got a new cup of coffee from the kitchen. He lay down on the long couch and drank the liquid, his eyes resting on Spock. Maybe Bones wanted to give them space, but Spock sure didn't look as if he was inviting Kirk to talk to him. But Kirk had done his homework when he had looked for local events yesterday. 

"There's an exhibition of T'Rel's paintings in a village nearby," he said.

That instantly drew Spock's concentration away from the padd. "Why would they exhibit ancient Vulcan paintings in this part of Earth?" Spock asked, one brow rising in question.

"Apparently there was a collector who bequeathed his collection to a local foundation, which opened a museum for it."

"Interesting."

Kirk smiled. "We could fly over and have a look at them."

"I didn't know you were interested in paintings," Spock said. 

"I know that you're interested in her work, and what I've seen of her on your console made me curious."

Spock put the padd aside. "T'Rel was the best painter of the Ve'Th period, and to see more of her originals works would be intriguing."

"Let's change and go. I'll leave a note for Bones in the kitchen."

"Maybe he would like to join us."

"I doubt that," Kirk said. "And I'm selfish and want to have you all for myself today. Let's go." 

Ten minutes later, they were on their way.

* 

The house was empty, even locked, when McCoy returned from his walk, leaving his shoes outside the back door. He was glad to find the little note in the kitchen and happy that they'd gone without him. Not even carrying Spock's katra had changed McCoy's dislike for abstract art, be it from Earth or Vulcan. He'd never understood why something like a small black dot on red ground could be art for anyone in any context, and even if the paintings showed a high level of artistic talent and technique, they never touched him in any way.

The coffee was empty and so he took some of Spock's tea. It was a Vulcan mixture he'd come to cherish over the years, and he sipped it while slowly walking into the living room. Warming his hands on the cup he sat down. There was Spock's padd on the table, and he gave it a glance. But it looked like quantum mechanics, and so he shrugged and leaned back in the seat, putting his feet on the edge of the table. 

He'd thought about this and that over the walk, but mostly he'd tried not to think about anything, and he intended to keep it this way for now. The tea's warmth soon lulled him into a light doze, and he barely managed to put the cup away before he fully moved onto the couch and fell asleep. 

"Hey, Bones." Someone shook him. "Wake up, you lazy ass."

"Stop it, Jim," McCoy grumbled and forced his eyes open. He yawned when he sat up, combing through his hair. "So, how was it?" Outside in the kitchen, he heard someone starting a new pot of coffee.

"Just wonderful," Kirk said with a twinkle. 

"You've been a better liar at times," McCoy grinned. 

"Well, Spock's explanations were as perfect and thorough as ever. I just didn't recognize any of it in the paintings themselves." Kirk sat down next to McCoy. "But it was a nice trip."

"That's great, Jim," McCoy said heartily. 

The door to the kitchen opened and Spock walked in with a little tray and three cups. 

"Hey, Spock. Thanks for the coffee," McCoy said and eagerly grabbed one.

"You're welcome, doctor. I hope you had an enjoyable day so far," the Vulcan said.

"Oh, yes." McCoy nodded. Outside, it was already getting darker. "How late is it?" he asked. 

"Already 17.32," Spock answered. 

"I must've slept for hours," McCoy said surprised. "Did you mix anything unusual in your tea, Spock?"

"Only some r'kela roots."

McCoy shook his head. "Which works like strong valerian on a human. Thanks, Spock. You should put a warning on the pot the next time you're mixing stuff."

"No wonder you're so relaxed," Kirk said with a grin and poked him lightly. "And I don't know about you, but I'm hungry like a wolf and will go and cook something now."

"Go ahead," McCoy said, waving his hand. "I'm too lazy to do anything. The tea completely knocked me out." 

"I will join you after drinking my tea," Spock said. Kirk energetically rose from the couch and went into the kitchen with his coffee in his hand.

McCoy eyed the Vulcan over the edge of his cup as he took another sip in the hope of counteracting the drug in his bloodstream. R'kela didn't only work like valerian on humans, but also on Vulcans, and McCoy had prescribed it to Spock once in a while ever since their first five-year mission. But that had usually been in more emotionally strenuous moments…Spock shouldn't really need it here, in this house, with them.

"Doctor?" Spock addressed him.

"Just thinking," McCoy replied. "Didn't know you had r'kela with you."

"I bought it right before our camping trip," Spock said. He emptied his cup. "I'll join Jim for the dinner preparation." 

"Fine," McCoy said, and looked after him until he vanished through the door. Then he diligently put the coffee cup down and lifted the one with the leftover of his tea. Now that he sniffed at it in concentration, he could smell the root in the mixture. In a sudden decision, he went up and walked with the cup in hand to the bedroom, where he pulled out his tricorder for checking the contents. The root made up 30% of the mix, an unusually high dosage. No wonder it had knocked him out. In deep thoughts he saved the result, then closed the tricorder and stored it away again. Something wasn't right with Spock, and he'd find it out, sooner or later. Until then, all he could do was keep a close eye on him.

*

The evening progressed uneventfully, with McCoy still unsuccessfully trying to get rid of the r'kela aftereffects, Spock in a quiet mood and Kirk obviously elsewhere with his thoughts at times. And although nobody spoke out loud the name of Jim's friend, his impending arrival hung over them like an invisible sword, by which something they had yet to define would be cut in halves. With that weird vision in his mind and an uneasy feeling in his guts, McCoy went to bed early, where he fell into a dreamless stupor. 

*

It was the morning of the day on which they expected Max, and McCoy was up early. Quietly he left the bedroom and dressed in the hall. He was just about to don his winter jacket when Spock appeared. The Vulcan gave him a questioning look.

"I'm going for a walk," McCoy said and slung a red handkerchief around his neck. 

"Would you like to have some company?"

"Hmm. Thought I'd go over and visit Moira, to warn her that we'll be using the beam pad later." 

Spock had only once met the housekeeper, and McCoy knew that they'd both been rather tense; Moira, because most humans still felt unsure when encountering aliens, and Spock because Kirk had made a few jokes about lesbians on their way and therefore the Vulcan had felt obliged to be on his stiffest and most formal behavior, lest he would offend the woman.

"But if you want to –"

But Spock already clipped, "Enjoy your walk," and disappeared into the kitchen.

McCoy stared after him. "Hey, no kiss?" he murmured, shaking his head. 

They were a little bit out of synch on this vacation, and he wasn't sure what bugged Spock the most — Max's arrival, McCoy's closeness issues or something that had to do with Sybok. He could only hope that Jim would be able to peel Spock out of his shell a little more, or they might well leave here with bigger unresolved issues than they'd arrived with. 

McCoy sighed and left the house by the main door. The morning was rather cool with a medium breeze, and he closed the winter coat with a shiver. He wasn't into climbing, but it was great walking the three miles to Moira's farm. The sun was fighting to get through the clouds, and the landscape was bathed in gray and yellow in changing intervals. 

When he drew closer to the large farm, he saw that she was working in the center yard. He waved, and she waved back. They met at the gate.

"Hi Len," she said and shook his hand. She was about his age and had short dark hair with streaks of white. She wore a coat similar to his over a pair of thick black jeans. They had been mistaken for siblings once, and he wouldn't have minded having her for a sister. 

They also shared a love for cowboy boots, and he admiringly looked at hers when she opened the gate. "Great model. They're from Boulet, right?"

"Yes." She stretched her foot. "You should get a pair. I can get you a deal; they'd be a third cheaper than in the normal shops."

"Done," he said and grinned.

"Did you have breakfast already?" she asked as they walked together to the main house. 

"No." 

"Then let's have coffee. I also have an apple tart."

"Wonderful." He stepped through the side door of the main house into the old kitchen. It was the oldest part of the farm, almost 400 years, and she had changed little in it, trying to hide the more technical devices in closets and cabinets. The coffee was filtered by hand, and they soon sat down on the wooden table. A helper came and quickly left again, leaving them on their own.

"Where's Connie?" he asked.

"She moved back to NY last month." 

"Oh, I'm sorry," McCoy said sincerely. "Putting my foot in my mouth right away, that's a new record."

"My problem that I'm always trying to import city folks. They never like it here for long." She took a gulp of the hot coffee. "Was everything alright with the house?"

"Perfect." McCoy stirred with the spoon, trying to reach the optimal distribution of the heavy milk. "I've actually come to warn you that we're going to use your padd this afternoon — Max is beaming in."

"Oh." She intently looked at him with her dark-green eyes. "Did you invite him?"

"Hmmm. He kinda invited himself."

"And you couldn't say no?" A smile crept up the edges of her mouth. 

"Not really. Jim would like to see him a lot." McCoy put the spoon aside and tested the coffee. "Gosh, you'll be giving me a heart attack with that stuff." 

"You won't get your watered down fleet junk here, Len, and you know it."

McCoy took another cautious sip, convinced that the liquid was strong enough to fall under the new drug regulations. "Yes." He neatly put the cup down again. "So…tell me about Max."

Her fingertips danced over the outer side of her cup as she gave him another watchful glance. "What do you want to know?" 

"Everything you'd like to tell?"

"Alright," she said, but didn't answer right away. Instead, she got up and brought two portions of the apple tart back to the table.

"I'm not hungry," McCoy said.

"You're much too thin, Len. You need to eat." She put the plate in front of him and fetched two pastry forks before sitting down herself.

"You're only the fiftieth person to tell me that," he said with a light glare. 

"Which only means you should believe us. Don't your boyfriends look after you?"

"They try very hard. Actually, I'm under a kind of special surveillance at the moment," McCoy said, trying to sell it as humor. But she looked at him, and he wondered how much of the little chain was visible between the shirt's collar and the handkerchief. 

"You wanted to tell me about Max," he said resolutely. 

"Max. Max is about the age of your captain. He's one hundred twenty percent gay and never has the same partner for long. He puts a lot of time and effort into looking good and has muscles like Mr. Universe. Compared to him, you all look like you came out of a retirement home."

She took a spoonful of the tart and went on,"He's also intelligent, thoughtful, a good friend, a nice guy, always charming, keeps his word and is more reliable than you'd think. That's why I accepted the housekeeper job for his little palace."

"Hmmm." McCoy poked the tart without eating it. 

"He often had parties in the past, and I think his friends were very sorry when he sold the house. Or do you intend to give parties too?"

"Lord, no," McCoy said. "The only party animal among us is Jim, and even he gets enough from all those official ceremonies he has to attend."

She nodded. "Yes, I can't imagine your Vulcan throwing a sex party. Damn, Len, stop piercing holes in the poor tart and start eating."

Giving into her pressure, he ate the piece, collecting even the minutest crumbs with the fork. "Satisfied?" he finally asked, showing his plate that looked like out of the washer.

"Yes. Want to have another one?"

"No, thanks." 

She took the dishes away, carelessly putting them into the nearby old-fashioned sink. Then she turned and leaned with her back to it. "What's eating you, Len?" she asked, crossing her arms. "You never asked about Max before. Is it because he's coming for a visit, or do you wonder what's going to happen between your captain and him?"

"It'll be alright," McCoy said evasively. "We'll handle it. Whatever it will be."

"So if that's not the problem, what is? Did it have to do with your last mission? I saw bits and pieces in the news, but I don't believe most of it — they always distort the truth." 

McCoy stared into his barely touched coffee. "We had a rather weird encounter…with a Vulcan zealot who also happened to be Spock's half brother. He'd never told us about him before that, because the man had been banned from Vulcan for heresy."

"Great. And?"

"The guy tried to heal your hidden wounds, your worst guilt…your worst pain. He tried to heal mine. For a while, it almost worked. After that, it resurfaced with more clarity and more pain than it had had before. Guess it wasn't much more than a hypnotic suggestion."

"Can you go and plant a punch on his chin for fucking with your brain?"

"I wish. But he's dead."

"And now you're left to deal with that pain again."

"Right."

"And you don't want to inflict it on your lovers, because they're involved. Especially Spock."

"Right. I don't want to make him feel guilty…more than he feels anyway. He could've stopped his brother at one point, but couldn't shoot him. To learn that I'm suffering from the aftermath now would make it all the worse."

"Care to tell me what it was? Your pain?" 

He slung his hands around the cup in silence for a moment. Then he looked up. "I performed euthanasia on my father. He was terminally ill and in constant pain, and begged me to end his life. Shortly after that, they found a cure."

She slowly nodded. "Do you know…many would be happy to have a doctor at hand to do this when they're dying."

"I know. Jim said as much. But it was senseless." He swallowed. "It felt like murder afterwards."

"Would you do the same for your partners if need be?"

He sagged in the seat. "I've been thinking about that ever since. What if Jim asks for it? Or Spock? They're not the kind of guys to do that, but you never know. And I found I couldn't say 'never'. There might be a moment when it looks like it makes sense and is necessary. But I couldn't live through such a decision again, I think. Not when the people concerned are so close to my heart."

Moira returned to the table and sat down opposite to him. She offered her hands over the top and McCoy took them.

"I'm going to tell you a story, Len. A few years ago, a very good friend of mine whom I loved more than my own mother contracted a deadly disease. Her health declined rapidly across several months, and it was only a matter of time until she'd end in bed, unable to move, speak, or interact. They might have put her on life support and kept her body alive for a while, but chances for any cure were minimal.

"One day, she showed up at my door. The weather forecast had predicted a snow blizzard in the area — you know, they're trying not to control the weather too much around here — and there she was, clad in her normal wear, and asked for one of my old horses which had been her favorite.

"I knew what she was up to. But I found I couldn't argue with her. She knew what she was doing. I gave her my horse and hugged her. She promised she'd return it safely. The last I saw of her was her thin figure on the back of my horse. 

"She died in that blizzard, but they found the horse in one of the little protective shelters up the mountain. They gave me the third degree — nobody ever dies in blizzards anymore, and they knew there was something weird about it. But in the end, the sheriff closed the investigation. He'd been a friend of her, and she'd talked to him a while before that, alluding to her plans. He didn't talk to me for months afterwards, but finally acknowledged that if she'd come to his door, he'd have done the same."

She tightly clasped McCoy's hands. "We can only try to make the best decision in the moment we're living in, Len. There's always a small chance that it might be the wrong one."

"I know." He looked at her with other eyes. "Sometimes I forget that other people have to make similar decisions. Being a doctor makes these things so much more complicated at times, with 'do no harm' wired into your very existence."

"You know the old rules of robotics? That the robots aren't allowed to harm humans — or to let them get harmed by doing nothing? The point is that sometimes you've got to act to avoid more harm." 

"I know. My brain knows." 

"Your heart knows too, but sometimes you're just too much involved," she said. "You need a little more distance from such things."

He smiled. "Actually, my partners think I'm more distant than I should be." 

"They're your friends and your former patients, and should know that they might maneuver you into a corner where you need to protect yourself more than they might like."

"I'm going back and forth, trying to find the optimum. We all are. But it felt a lot easier before this mission."

"Because nothing had really challenged you, right? You had a relaxed life before that. Now someone walked all over your respective sensibilities, and it rattled you, making you wonder if you all found the balance you thought you had. Your own one and the one between you."

He sighed. "You should've become psychologist."

"And what are you going to do now?" 

"We've got five days left. We'll see how it is with Max, and we'll try to get the issues resolved." McCoy pulled his hands out of her reach. "I actually think we just need a little bit more time."

"Just take care that you don't let it grow into a real communication problem." She leaned back in her chair, accepting his retreat.

"Yes." He rose from the chair, taking at look at the increasingly dark sky outside. "I think I should go back. They're probably wondering by now whether I got lost."

She moved to his side. "It's starting to rain. Let me give you a lift."

He accepted, and she soon landed her little flitter in the back of their house, right next to theirs. 

"Give my best wishes to your boys, Len," Moira said with a nod to the kitchen window.

"Will do so. Jim will fetch Max later, so you'll see him anyway." He took her upper arm in a warm clasp. "Thanks for listening, Moira. It's always good meeting you."

She smiled. "Same here. Take care." 

He slipped out and closed the door, watching her until the flitter went out of sight. Then he went inside.

*

In the living-room, he was greeted by the sound of the Vulcan lyre. Spock sat in the armchair with the instrument in his arms, giving him a short nod. 

McCoy kept standing behind the couch, watching the sensual way Spock cradled the lyre. Only when he seemed to take a break between the complicated routines, did McCoy dare to ask, "Where's Jim?" 

Spock pointed towards the stairways down to the basement, and McCoy went there, more driven by boredom than anything else. The swimming pool hall was empty, but when he walked to the door of the dungeon, it was half open and he could see his lover moving some things around.

"Hey, Jim," he said and walked into the dungeon. It always felt strange to him, as if he'd stepped into an alien world…and in a way, it was one. "What are you doing?" 

Kirk turned to him. "I thought I'd clean a bit. Some things were a bit dusty." In his hands was the gas mask McCoy had chosen as one of his playthings the last time they had been here, and he felt himself blushing. He must've been rather inebriated when he allowed those particular images to surface, and when looking back it never ceased to amaze him that the other two really had managed to make a very hot session with it. However, it wasn't something he felt much like repeating at the moment. 

"Dusty, I see." McCoy leaned against the door frame and crossed his arms. "You're pretty sure of our decision, aren't you?"

Kirk shrugged. "I know you and I know Max. I'm sure that you'll all get along, given a little time."

"Which you aren't really giving us."

"How much time do you want to have? I know you, Bones, you're one of those people who has an opinion about someone after a fraction of a second."

"Every human does that," McCoy said. "You just belong to the fraction of the population who manage to overcome that first judgment more easily than others, that's why you're a Starfleet captain and official ambassador in first contact situations."

"I know that you had a lot of first contacts too, Bones, and you weren't bad." Kirk put the mask side and started to clean another shelf with a cloth. "Your old country doctor image is just that — an image. I'll never forget how cool you were on Capella IV."

McCoy walked into the dungeon, taking a pair of unusual bracelets from the freshly cleaned shelf. He turned them in his hand, wondering what they might be for as they didn't seem to have any rings. 

"Magnetic," Kirk said. "And they're very strong, you wouldn't be able to separate them by using your own strength."

McCoy put them back. "You know everything around here, do you?" 

"No." Kirk shook his head, wiping some more metal cuffs. 

"Have you ever played here?"

"A few times," Kirk admitted. 

"Your surprise the last time, it was all faked?" McCoy made a face. 

"No, he had rearranged a lot since I'd been here the last time. We were barely on Earth, how would I have come here?" Kirk turned to him. "Really, Bones, it's not as if I really lied. But it happened all so quickly with the house, and then I wanted it to be a surprise for you."

"Oh, it definitely was one," McCoy said caustically.

"Hey, you are the man who defended Spock for his lies concerning Sybok," Kirk said annoyed. "So what about at least trying to understand me?"

"I understand you, Jim," McCoy said slowly. "I'm just not sure if Spock does. And they were omissions, not lies, culturally forced on him. Sybok was banned, even speaking his name was forbidden to Spock. The situation put a lot of emotional stress on him." For a short moment, he wondered if he should tell Jim about Spock's unusually high consumption of r'kela, but then he decided to skip it. 

Kirk rolled his eyes. "You'd think we'd reach the point some day where we can share everything, instead of running against a wall of silence again and again."

"Yes, you'd think that. But obviously, we don't work like that." McCoy walked back to the door. "I'll go and cook something."

"Fine," Kirk said and turned his back on him. 

With a sigh, McCoy walked upstairs. There was still the tune of the lyre hanging in the house, but Spock had moved elsewhere, maybe into the bedroom. Not wanting to meet anyone for now, McCoy went into the kitchen and spent an agreeable hour diligently cutting vegetables into tiny little pieces.

*

It was already after nine in the evening when Max finally called and announced his arrival within the next half hour. It left Kirk just enough time to change clothes, take the flitter and get over to Moira's farm. He went out and walked to the smaller barn. The beam pad was already illuminated in a pale white color and ready to receive the signal. It didn't take long until the tell-tale pattern appeared and Kirk could watch his old friend materialize in all his male beauty, clad in civilian dark-blue jeans, a white shirt under a green cord jacket and black boots, mostly hidden by the jeans.

"Max!" Kirk exclaimed when the broad-shouldered man stepped down from the pad. "Haven't seen you in ages." They fell into each other's arms, embracing with all the strength they could muster. 

"You look good," Kirk said as he made a step back and eyed his friend. "You're working out a lot more than I do."

"You're a settled man, Jim, and it shows," Max said with a grin. Two pieces of luggage appeared on the pad, and he lifted them with ease. 

"I've got a flitter outside of the barn," Kirk said and showed him the way. When they drew closer, Kirk saw that Moira was standing next to the flitter. She greeted Kirk with a handshake and a nod before heartily embracing her former neighbor. 

"Max, old tart," she said and shook him. 

"Moira, old dyke," he answered with a broad grin. "It's good to see you."

"Everyone's saying so today, except Jim."

"No problem," Kirk said nonchalantly and put the luggage into the flitter. He took the main seat, giving the two friends outside some minutes of chatting by their own. Finally Max climbed in and closed the door.

"Great idea to fetch me," his friend said. "Or is it more than simple hospitality?"

Kirk smiled. "Well, I think I should brief you before you meet my partners." He started the engine. 

"Are they going to eat me for dinner?" Max asked, amused.

"No, but your arrival caused quite some discussion."

"Oh?"

"Because I admitted that I might want to have sex with you."

Max's smile turned into a more serious expression. "You're nothing if not open," he said. "And how did they react?"

"They want to meet you. If they like you, they may agree to something more. If they don't like you, you'll be escorted out of the door and back to the beam pad tomorrow."

Max nodded. "An acceptable deal. Better than being murdered and buried in the garden." 

"Of course, maybe I don't feel like doing anything with you," Kirk said.

Max smirked. "Not wanting to boast, Jim, but you've always been eager to have sex with me over the last decades."

"I know. But as you said, I'm settled now." Kirk tried to avoid looking at his long-time fuck buddy. It made him look at Max' well-formed legs instead, which wasn't much better. It was true — they really had a long history with each other, one that wasn't easily turned off over night. Not even for the two men who meant so much to him.

"Settled enough to warn you partners before bringing me here," Max said. "But thankfully, I've got myself under control. If they say you're off-limits, I'll be able to keep my fingers off." He stroked Kirk's thigh. "As good as." 

Kirk smiled. "Here we are," he said and landed the flitter. He could see Spock's and McCoy's heads in the kitchen, and when Max moved his luggage out of the flitter, they joined them outside. 

"Hello, I'm Max Fenton," Max said. He put the luggage on the ground and offered his hand to the elder human. It had to be the doctor; skinny figure and lots of wrinkles in his face. 

"Nice to meet you. I'm Leonard McCoy." They shook hands, eyeing each other carefully.

"And you must be Mr. Spock," Max said and raised his hand to a Vulcan salute. "Live long and prosper."

"Live long and prosper too, Mr. Fenton," Spock said somewhat stiffly. 

"Please, call me Max."

"Call me Len," McCoy said. "We thought you might like to take the bedroom at the end of the upper corridor. But the other three are empty too. It's not like we're entertaining a lot of guests here." 

"I would've been surprised if you did. Jim's turned into quite a nun over the last years," Max said jokingly. Spock stiffly cocked an eyebrow at him, and he slightly faltered. "Well, I'll carry my stuff in."

"Let me help you," Kirk said.

"Not eating me for dinner, eh?" Max murmured as they went along the corridor. "If looks could kill…"

Kirk smiled. "They're alright. You'll find out. Don't let yourself be intimidated by Spock. You know how Vulcans are."

"Only from official meetings. I never tried to get one into bed."

"Never?" Kirk challenged him. 

"Well," Max admitted. "There was that guy…he was married, but they all are, usually, and someone brought him to one of my parties in Rome."

"What happened?" Kirk asked and put the trunk next to the bed.

"He had too much to drink and went overboard in various ways. I heard he had quite a few problems dealing with the aftermath. Their education is rather conservative by Earth standards. It's a wonder your Spock even let me through the door."

"We're not exactly the standard Vulcan couple," Kirk reminded him.

"But I wouldn't bet on how far you're away from it," Max said. "Hey, not wanting to make you nervous," he added as he saw Kirk's serious face. "I'll take a shower and join you later, alright?"

Kirk nodded. "Fine. You know the way." He left the room, leaving Max to his own private thoughts.

*

Half an hour later, Max emerged from his room, clad in light blue jeans, a white, short-sleeved buttoned shirt and white slippers. For a second, he'd thought about wearing something more toned-down, but he wasn't the type to try sailing under false flags. If Jim's partners wouldn't like him, he could wear what he wanted and would get shoved out again anyway. It was an amusing thought and would be a first time in the last twenty years. Usually, if he found he didn't fit into a group, Max was proud to leave on his own without having to be told he was incompatible. He trusted his gut instinct — although it might leave him at loss with a Vulcan.

When he walked into the living room, the table was already set for dinner. The two standing men greeted him with smiles — Jim a big one, McCoy a small one. Spock, who sat on one of the couches, only tilted his head. Better than nothing, Max thought and offered to crack open the bottle of red wine that was already standing on the table.

"I thought we'd start with beer first, since it's a better fit for the meal," Kirk said. "We've got salad, vegetarian steaks and potato wedges out of the oven."

"Great." Max said and put the bottle on the sideboard, placing three bottles of beer on the table instead. "Spock, I presume you prefer water, right?"

Spock nodded. 

"Hey, you don't have to do anything, Max," Kirk said amused as he drew closer to him. "You're our guest."

"I lived here for so long, it's hard to break the habit," Max said and placed the water at the fourth seat. 

"Honestly, I don't understand why you sold the house at all, and especially to Jim," McCoy said, gesturing with his hand around the room in a wide circle. "It's a beautiful little palace." 

"Sometimes it's time for a change," Max replied. "I traveled between Pluto and Earth a lot during the last three years, but when I decided to settle down there, I knew this house needed a new owner." 

"But I bet lots of your friends would've been interested," McCoy said. 

Max smiled. "Well, I guess some of them would've been; but when I asked Jim on the spur of a moment, and he said yes, it was a done deal."

"And not one I've regretted so far. I'll get the steaks and potatoes," Kirk said and left for the kitchen. McCoy followed him.

Not quite knowing what to do, Max walked around in the room. There were some new books, and he took one in his hands. "Tale of Two Cities?" he asked when Kirk came back into the room. "Didn't know you liked Dickens. And I see you still have that weird preference for paper books."

Kirk gave him a glance of the 'be careful' type. "But it's beautiful," Max hastened to add and diligently put it back into place. He quickly went to the table and sat down with the others. Spock was the last one to join them, and managed to keep an invisible barrier between himself and the three humans. Kirk and McCoy ignored it, engaging Max in friendly chit-chat, carefully and obviously avoiding anything that could pose a problem. It still left enough to talk about. McCoy asked some questions about the house and its history as well as about Max's career from Starfleet to becoming a free trader in dilithium and Federation stocks. 

Max was aware that the Vulcan closely followed his answers, but without adding anything. Considering that Spock was the son of an ambassador and a highly decorated Starfleet officer, he sure wasn't on his best behavior tonight, Max thought, once more amused. 

He'd scanned the files of Jim's partners for the first time shortly after the whale business when he'd met Jim on the street and they'd quickly decided to go to Kirk's apartment. It had been great sex, but Jim had seemed preoccupied and told him afterwards that there seemed to be something developing between him and two of his officers — his two best friends. He'd been unsure what to do, and Max hadn't been able to give him much advice. But it wasn't necessary anyway — it was more that Kirk needed to talk about it to someone, and Max had felt honored to be the one person whom his high-profile friend trusted enough to share something that could seriously damage his reputation. When Max wanted to sell the house, he instantly thought of Kirk, as it was a rather secluded place. Living in this corner of Earth wasn't hip at all; most other Starfleet members owned something in Australia or China, far enough from SanFran to not get called all the time, but still well-developed enough to beam out quickly. Taking a flitter and actually flying somewhere was old-fashioned.

But then, Max thought, there was an old-fashioned streak in Jim, and not only for collecting antique weapons and books.

McCoy caught his eye, and Max looked back at him. The doctor had the bluest eyes; witty and a little critical, and Max could almost see the thoughts ticking in his brain. He'd heard that McCoy was a very direct man, but tonight he seemed cautious and controlled. They were checking him out, the doctor and the Vulcan, and it reminded Max of meeting his first boyfriend's parents. It had failed miserably, but he'd come a long way since then. Hopefully.

The meal was over, and Max helped Kirk to clear the plates and dishes.

"It's going well," Kirk said with a smile as they stood side by side. 

"Well?" Max raised his brows. "I guess it counts that they didn't put my luggage back in the flitter yet. And what was that about the book?"

"It was a birthday present from Spock, shortly before the Genesis events. It's very special to us." 

"I see. Anything else in particular you'd like to warn me about?"

"None that I remember right now." 

"Thanks. I guess that means I'm in for some more big mistakes. You're sure Spock won't break my neck when I sleep?"

"Didn't know you were xenophobic," Kirk said slightly critically.

"I'm not — I only have a healthy respect for the quirks of alien nations. And Vulcans are very possessive when it comes to their spouses."

"They both assumed that I'd have a fling some day." Kirk put the dishes into the washer. 

Max took over when he saw Kirk choosing the wrong program. "Setting three is better than one," he said and pressed the code. Then he leaned with his back to the kitchenette and folded his arms in front. "But I bet they thought it'd be a woman, and not a fuck buddy from way back at the academy." 

"Right," Kirk admitted.

Max frowned deeply. "Really, Jim — why did you invite me? It's clear that they don't want me here."

"They agreed to give you a chance." 

"A chance," Max repeated flatly. "You made them agree."

"I think you'll all get along once you're a bit better acquainted," Kirk said and walked to him. Placing his hands left and right of his friend, he leaned forward. "It's important to me, Max. That's why they agreed."

Max was overly aware of Kirk's posture — the invitation and also the challenge. "I think I'll go to bed," he said resolutely and freed himself out of the cornered position. "It's been a long day." 

"Alright." Kirk went to the door with him. "Give them a day or two. They'll do the same for you."

"We'll see tomorrow," Max replied without promising anything. He said goodnight to the other men and retreated to his bedroom.

*

They sat in the living room — Spock and McCoy each on his own couch, Kirk in the arm chair. Kirk had taken the bottle of wine with him and was having a glass; the others had declined.

"Opinions, gentlemen?" Kirk asked in the way he'd asked them a thousand times. 

McCoy raised a brow. "What do you want to hear, Jim?" he asked. "He's alright. The kind of guy I wouldn't mind chatting with in a bar."

"Spock?"

Spock serenely laced his fingers. "I cannot pass judgment on him so far. I think I will retire for meditation now."

Kirk frowned as he watched him leave.

"What did you expect, Jim?" McCoy asked critically. "It's not as if he ever said he liked the idea. And it doesn't help when you're trying to get into Max' pants in the kitchen."

Kirk's frown deepened. "I wasn't trying to do that."

"You were." McCoy patted on the seat next to him on the couch. "Come over, and bring your wine with you."

Kirk joined him. McCoy took his glass and sipped from it. "Tell me why Max is so important for you. Besides being an old friend."

Kirk took the glass out of McCoy's hand. 

"Is it because of those games?" McCoy vaguely gestured towards the basement.

"Yes." Kirk gulped the wine down and poured another glass. "Besides being an old friend and lover, he's the only one I trust enough to participate in such games. I never did it with anyone else — except for the two of you." 

"You sounded a lot more experienced when we were here in the spring," McCoy said. 

"Max has lots of experience, and we played around in various ways. But all my experience is with him."

"Maybe you should explain that to Spock," McCoy said. "For all his Vulcan meld mumbo, he's still no mind reader." 

"And you think that would make a difference?"

"Yes."

Kirk gave the glass to McCoy. "What's your real opinion? Don't mince words, Bones."

McCoy circled the dark red liquid in the glass in thoughts. "He's very good-looking," he finally said. "Although Moira told me, I didn't expect him to look quite that good. He's got charm, has seen a lot, is amiable. As I said, a nice guy and I'd happily spend an evening at a bar with him." He faced Kirk. "But it's still hard to get adjusted to facing him as…competition."

"That's how you see it?"

"A bit. Can't help it. Started to take you more for granted than I thought, maybe."

Kirk smiled. "That's a good sign, actually."

"Just the wrong moment for it." McCoy emptied the glass. "Feel like going on a little walk outside?" 

"Sure." They went to get their jackets and left through the back door.

*

When Spock awoke from his meditation, it was in the middle of the night. There was an arm around his waist, and he wondered for a moment if he would be able to leave the bed without waking its owner. But when he tried, Jim took a sleepy hold on him.

"Spock, where are you going?"

"Into the kitchen for some water."

"I'm coming with you."

"You should sleep."

"I'm coming with you," Kirk repeated, the sleep rapidly leaving his voice. They slipped out of bed; McCoy didn't move a muscle. The kitchen was cool under Kirk's soles as he watched Spock fill a glass from the tap.

"We need to talk," Kirk said.

"Do we?" Spock raised a brow.

"There's something Bones thought I should tell you." Kirk searched Spock's face for a movement, some emotion, but it looked rather frozen. "About my motivation — why Max is so important to me."

Without answering at first, Spock emptied the glass and refilled it. Then he looked at Kirk and said, "Let us go into the living room." 

They settled on the smaller couch, a blanket over them. 

"Spock…Max is the only person besides you two with whom I ever did these S&M games." 

"The only one?" Spock asked in obvious surprise.

"Yes. We started together, and he became quite an expert, playing with many people. But I…only ever played with him. I've got a control fetish, and I know it. He's the only one who I trust enough to let loose like this. Besides you."

"But we are only beginners."

Kirk guiltily looked to the floor. "Yes. It was great with you last time, and I'd hoped we'd have more of it, once in a while. But it's not really your interest, and I don't want to push you beyond your limits."

Spock tightly closed his fingers around the glass, staring at it. "So you miss it more than you stated in spring?"

"I miss it more than I would've thought. Playing with you was…nourishing a certain sparkle. A desire. It's quickly satisfied when I can play around once in a while. But feeling that it's an unattainable thing makes me think a lot more about it."

"What does Max do with you?"

"Uh, you mean in a play?" Kirk shed a gaze at Spock.

"Yes."

"Lots of things. Tying me up. Teasing me. Flogging me." Kirk paused. "Fucking me."

"I had assumed that much," Spock said dryly. 

"If you want to set certain limits, it'd be alright. I think he could handle that. But if you don't agree to anything…well, I'll accept it. He'll accept it — he's close to leaving anyway because he feels that you don't want him here. But it won't solve the problem in the long run. I can try, but I doubt it'll work out."

There was a long silence, and Kirk waited with his eyes on Spock's knees until he couldn't bear it any longer.

"Spock?" he asked and lifted his gaze up to search his lover's face.

"A human might consider this to be emotional blackmail," Spock said. Kirk slowly nodded, feeling his heartbeat accelerating.

"However, this need is not something that has recently developed. It would be illogical to deny older needs because you are in a new relationship."

"Spock…" Kirk took a deep breath.

"There is no inherent difference from dating a woman; she would just the same satisfy a need neither McCoy nor I are able to satisfy for obvious reasons. We might still strive to play with you, but we will probably never become proficient." Kirk didn't understand how Spock managed to sound somewhat unwound although the sentences were delivered in a Vulcanly restricted way. A big weight lifted from his chest as he listened to them.

"Your friend appears to be an agreeable person. I have nothing against him and accept that you trust him. You may go to the dungeon with him. However, it is possible that we would want to cover you and watch you on the cameras that are installed there."

Kirk was surprised. "Cameras?"

"Yes. Four of them. They can be displayed on the screens in the house."

"Didn't know that."

"It was not relevant information so far. There are more distributed around the house."

Kirk heaved a relieved sigh. "Thanks, Spock," he said. "So I only have to ask Bones."

"I spoke for Leonard too," Spock said.

"You did? Well, then…thanks to both of you — for being such wonderful persons."

Spock slipped his hand in Kirk's neck. "'You're welcome' is the correct answer, I believe."

"Yes." Kirk bent forward and let his tongue slip into the Vulcan's mouth. With his hand, he blindly reached out for Spock's fingers, offering the Vulcan equivalent of a kiss. Their fingertips met and touched, sending love and sizzling energy over their nerve endings. 

'Beautiful one,' Kirk thought and was rewarded with an answering wave of affection. That Spock would accept his wish — his need — for the games with Max was more than he had really counted on, and it was an incredible gift. 

"So much for possessive Vulcans," he murmured as they broke the lip contact for a moment.

"We are. Never doubt that," Spock said quietly. "If he dared try to take you away from us…" 

"He wouldn't. He's never wanted me that way. Not like you want me, body and soul."

Spock's fingers touched Kirk's again, deepening the developing meld. They sank against each other hungrily, their connection rapidly growing through their touches. 

When they went to bed, it was already becoming morning.

*

Max was up early, but when he noticed the couple in the living room, he decided not to disturb them. Thankfully they went to bed not much later, which gave him a chance to get to the kitchen for a first coffee, clad in comfortable soft pants and a long-sleeved sweater. He hadn't yet showered, not wanting to make any unnecessary noise. He'd have time later. 

He wasn't alone for long — McCoy scuffled into the kitchen, clad in a bathrobe and slippers. The doctor happily accepted a cup of the hot liquid and, although he didn't look very awake, at least he seemed more relaxed than the previous evening.

Max took in the rolls and fruits which were delivered daily, then sat down opposite to him. "Looks like you slept well." 

"Yes," McCoy said and sat down on a barstool. 

Max eyed him. "I wonder if I should leave soon. What do you think?"

"Jim would be very unhappy if you did," McCoy replied and took a sip of the coffee.

"And you?"

"It took a bit of time to adjust to the idea, but as far as I can see, things got settled last night. So we don't want to see you leave either."

"You're willing to make a big sacrifice. Is he worth it?" Max asked.

McCoy shot him a wry grin. "We were willing to make much bigger sacrifices in the past, mister. He's worth it — more than you can know. But try taking him away from us and Spock will perform a traditional tal'shaya on you."

"A what?"

"Break your neck."

"My fear all along," Max said, trying for humor. He rubbed his neck, trying to dispel the sudden ghost pain. "Sorry that I asked, but I had to."

"No problem." McCoy took one of the fresh apples and bit in it. "So, how's your medical status? Anything wrong with you? I'd like to check you."

Max startled. "My medical status?"

"I'm a doctor; we're very close to each other, not just in the relationship but also onboard the Enterprise. I need to make sure that you won't bring in some funny germs."

"And for that you'd like to check on me?"

"Sure." McCoy slipped out of the room and soon returned with a medical tricorder in his hand.

"Don't have much choice, do I?" Max stared at it.

"No. It's part of the deal." McCoy opened the instrument and looked at the display. "Do you fear anything's wrong with you?"

"No. Otherwise they wouldn't have allowed me to land on Earth. They even took a blood sample. But if you need to — go ahead. May I keep on drinking my coffee?"

"Only when I say so," McCoy said with a rising brow, adjusting the settings. Then he waved the tricorder over Max. 

"Everything alright?" Max asked when McCoy looked down at the display again. 

"Looks like." McCoy closed the instrument. 

Max shook his head with amusement. "You're really very special people. Do you know that?""

"Yes." McCoy put the tricorder aside on the kitchenette and finished his apple. Then he yawned. "Guess I should go back to bed for some more sleep."

"Did you get up because of your partners or because of me?"

McCoy winked. "Wanted to make sure that you weren't turning tail and running. You're very important to Jim. I hope that he's important to you too."

Max nodded slowly. "Yes, he's something special. Or we wouldn't have been buddies for ages."

"So relax and enjoy the morning. Things will be fine. I'm sure there are lots of things to catch up on, and Jim will be happy to spend some time with you." 

"Hope so." Max smiled. "See you later."

McCoy nodded and, with another yawn, left the kitchen.

Max emptied his cup, his smile deepening. It would be a great day, he decided and left to find something to do.

* 

When Kirk, Spock and McCoy entered the kitchen a few hours later, refreshed and clad in comfortable casual clothing, it was as empty as the living room was. 

"I wonder where he is," Kirk said concerned. "I hope he didn't leave."

McCoy shook his head. "I'm sure he didn't. He wouldn't leave without saying goodbye anyway."

"We can find out his whereabouts by using the camera system," Spock said.

"Ah yes — the camera system I didn't know of until last night," Kirk said amused, giving a full cup of coffee to McCoy and one of tea to Spock.

Spock switched on a little screen on the kitchen wall. "We will not look into the more private rooms. But there are many other possibilities…"

Some of the cameras were pointed outside and offered a view into the garden and to the flitter. Most were inside, some looking into dark rooms when the lights were out, and others scanning through lighter areas. They finally found Max in the gym that was two doors left of the dungeon, but for which Kirk had been too lazy last time they'd been here. Max was watching a TV program and cycling on the training bicycle. Simply looking at him was a pleasure; Kirk wasn't one to select his partners of any gender just by looks, but it was nice…and hot...to see that Max was in such a formidable condition — although it made Kirk very aware that he wasn't himself. He stared down at his chest, deciding he'd go to the gym later too. 

"What a beefcake," McCoy said, amused.

Kirk looked at him in surprise. "Didn't even know you knew that word, Bones. Hasn't it been out of fashion for two hundred years already?"

"I've read a few articles."

"Articles," Kirk repeated. "I'm not sure I want to know in which kind of articles there's the word beefcake." It was amusing to see McCoy's slight blush at the skin right above the shirt collar, but McCoy just shrugged. When Spock gave him a risen eyebrow, McCoy simply stared back with his own one up in a challenge.

"So what are we going to do today?" Kirk asked and stretched his back. 

"Don't ask complicated questions when I'm still having my first coffee," McCoy said with a small yawn. 

"Sorry, Bones." Kirk slipped onto a barstool, while Spock switched off the screen. "Maybe we could have a little walk in fresh air." 

"You could also join Max in the gym for a workout," McCoy said.

"Are you implying I could use it?" Kirk said with a slight glare.

"Always, Jim," McCoy stated, but then added with a gentle smile, "He'd be happy to see you, I think. And I'm sure you have a lot to catch up on."

"Sure. We haven't seen each other in quite some time." Kirk sipped his coffee. It was black this morning; he hadn't felt like adding milk. "Should I join him?" he asked with a gaze at Spock.

"I need to take care of some personal messages this morning," Spock said. "Feel free to spend your time with him."

Kirk felt a lump in his throat; never had he been more nicely pushed into someone else's arms. He downed his coffee. "Alright. I'll see you later," he said, put the cup aside and left the kitchen, nervously and elatedly walking down to the gym.

*

For a moment, silence fell over the kitchen. McCoy rested his eyes on Spock.

"Doctor?" the Vulcan said as he caught the gaze.

"Just wanted to make sure you're alright."

"Alright is a rather imprecise wording, doctor." 

"You know what I mean, Spock," McCoy said softly. 

Spock looked at him, dark eyes under heavy lids this morning. There was too little meditation and too much emotional strain, McCoy surmised. But nothing Spock wouldn't be able to handle, given some time. "The situation is acceptable," Spock finally replied. "I trust yours is just as agreeable?"

"Yes." McCoy had the rest of his coffee and slipped from his barstool to put the cup away. Then he drew closer to Spock, putting his hand on the Vulcan's shoulder. "If you want to talk, I'll stay with you. If not — I wanted to go outside for a little walk."

"Maybe we can combine them," Spock said. "Have you read the articles I forwarded to you, which tied in with your latest research? I would like to discuss them with you."

"Yes, had a look at them. They're really very interesting. I wouldn't have thought that Alderian bacteria would be connected to Vulcan ones. This is putting a completely new spin on the evolutionary theories of these two planets." 

Spock nodded. "Let us dress in something more compatible with outside temperatures and discuss this on the walk." 

McCoy pulled back his hand to give Spock the room to move, but the Vulcan captured it for a moment, lacing their fingers. "To answer your question, Leonard — I feel good." 

McCoy cracked a small smile. "That's all I wanted to hear. Let's go." 

They quickly changed clothes, then put on their winter coats and left through the main door.

*

"Hi, Max," Kirk said as he opened the gym door. "Mind if I join you?"

"Good morning, Jim," Max said, his sweaty clothes sticking to his body, showing off the muscles to his advantage. "Of course not."

Kirk self-consciously patted his chest. "I've really gained weight, and I know it."

"You were always the sturdy kind, Jim — even in your best days, you had a tendency to have love handles. Now that you're in relationship, it simply adds up."

Kirk sat down on the second bicycle to the right of Max. "I try, but it's hard. McCoy needles me once in a while but less since we've been together. Guess he doesn't want to get on my nerves as much as in the past."

"Must be hard to be someone's doc and lover."

Kirk shrugged. "He never complained about it. It's just a part of who we are." He set up the right program and started to cycle.

"He talked to me this morning…kept me from running away," Max said.

"Really?" Kirk stopped his movement for a second. "Was it that bad yesterday?" 

"Let's just say, it was weird. I'm not used to feeling so unwelcome."

"I'm sorry." Kirk pushed hard into the pedals. "But things are settled now."

"Looks like it." Max slowly let the pedals spin until the machine stopped, then stretched his legs left and right of it.

"They are. They're not people to lie."

"But they may not say everything they think," Max said.

"Hmmm. True," Kirk admitted. He broke his stride again. "Max, you don't have to do anything with me if you're feeling uncomfortable. But if you can believe me that it'll be alright…then go ahead."

Max left the bicycle and drew closer to Kirk. He put one hand on his friend's back, the other one right between his legs. "You mean, I won't get killed if I do this?"

"No," Kirk said and took a deep breath.

"Really?" Max leaned closer.

"No." Kirk met him halfway for a kiss, which quickly got very deep and wet. 

"It would be a lot easier to go if I didn't find you so hot," Max murmured when they broke apart. 

Kirk looked down at his friend's obvious hard-on, then on his own. "I know what you mean."

Max gave him a last caressing slap, then moved away from the bicycle. "You wanted to get some exercise," he said. "I'm done and need a shower. I'll see you later."

"Hey, that's no fair," Kirk said annoyed.

Max smiled. "Don't be greedy." 

"You sound like McCoy," Kirk grumbled.

"Maybe we've got some things in common." Max knocked on the door with his knuckles. "See you later, Jim. Looking forward to it." 

The door closed. Damn teasers, all of them, Kirk thought with a big sigh and heavily pushed into the pedals to sweat it out for now. 

*

The sun had finally won the fight with the clouds, and so Spock and McCoy could enjoy their walk at a more moderate temperature than expected. For most of their tour, they had discussed several articles on biological and genetic evolution in depth, but by now they had stopped and were simply enjoying the nature. They broke their stride at times to have a closer look at a special flower or wild herb, and once there was a rabbit crossing their way — but thankfully, it was neither white nor looking at a watch, McCoy thought amused.

They walked hand in hand — or rather, palm to palm. It would look a little strange to outsiders, but they always made sure that nobody saw it. Humans lacing fingers were signaling love — Vulcans touching full-handed like this were halfway into having sex and definitely too intimate for public display. A deep calmness ran through McCoy, and it got deeper with every breath. His eyelids dropped once in a while, but never enough to make him tumble or lose his way. Just when he thought it couldn't feel any better, a slight sound disturbed the silence of the forest. They quickly parted, taking a small step away from each other. It brought McCoy fully back to consciousness, and he sighed. At least it was only Moira, he realized as he saw the little flitter that came over the field. 

"Hello," she said as she landed it right next to them. "Sorry, didn't want to disturb you. But when I saw you walking here, I thought I could at least offer you a tea or coffee."

McCoy looked at Spock, encountering a light frown. 

"Hey, she won't eat you," McCoy whispered. "And I'm really thirsty."

"Mister Spock — I know I wasn't at my best the last time we met, but I've been trying to do better," Moira addressed the Vulcan. 

"Our last meeting was indeed rather unsatisfying," Spock agreed. "Tea sounds good."

"I'll drive ahead and prepare everything. You take your time and walk the half mile over the field. There's that little path –" she pointed at her left "– and it leads directly to the farm."

"We'll find our way," McCoy said.

She nodded and steered the flitter up and back over the field.

"Tea for three," McCoy said amused. 

"Indeed." Spock took McCoy's hand again. "While I accept this second chance to get to know her better, I am slightly disappointed that we have been interrupted."

"We've still got the path," McCoy said, staring at their laced palms in fascination as he felt intense warmth spreading along their touch. "That's something new, isn't it? How do you do that?" 

"It is actually very old. Something Sybok did with me when we were children. I had forgotten about it…it is not something Vulcans usually do."

"You're being naughty?" McCoy smiled. "It's nice…very nice." The warmth crept up his wrist and arm up to the shoulder before dissipating in his chest.

McCoy took a deep breath. "We should walk to the farm."

"Yes," Spock said, but didn't start walking. Another wave of warmth spread from his arm down his chest to McCoy's groin.

"Stop it, Spock," McCoy said with a gasp and pulled away. "I'm not as good as you at willing a hard-on away." 

"I apologize." 

They went to the path. It was a bit too narrow to walk side by side, and so McCoy soon walked behind Spock. It wasn't a great position to talk, but there was a question nagging at him.

"How much did Sybok teach you?" he asked.

For several steps, there was only silence. Then Spock said, "This is complicated to explain." 

"Why?" 

"First of all, many of the things he taught me weren't complete, as he didn't have the full knowledge either. Then I was much younger and, being not a full-blooded Vulcan, had problems with some of the techniques. But most of all…some of them actively used emotions."

"Now that's really perverted." McCoy stated.

Long steps pushed them forward, forcing McCoy to walk faster. "Indeed." 

"And you still learned them?" he asked, slightly out of breath.

The Vulcan's back in front of him seemed to tense around the shoulders. "I was a curious child."

McCoy wanted to ask more, but then they were already at the end of the path, stepping onto a mown area near the farm. It only took them a few dozen meters and then they were in Moira's kitchen, the hot tea already steaming in two pots. They shed their winter coats and sat down with her. 

"Apple tart, Mr. Spock?" Moira asked, and the Vulcan accepted a piece. "Len?"

"Yeah, fine for me." McCoy crossed his legs, slightly teetering with the upper one. 

"And, how do you like Max?" Moira asked. 

McCoy couldn't help grinning as he saw the flicker in Spock's face, but it quickly vanished. "A hundred brick points, Moira."

"Oh," she said, getting the hint. "Well." She resolutely ate a forkful of tart. "But I guess Jim can answer for himself," she added and pointed outside with her fork. "They're just landing outside of the yard. In fact, they're coming right here."

True — only moments later, the other two men were at the door of the kitchen, seemingly filling a bigger part of it than they physically should have been.

"Hey — didn't know you'd be here," Kirk said to his two partners.

"We were invited," McCoy said with a shrug.

"Hi, Moira," Max said. "I though we could ask to borrow two of your horses." 

"Didn't know you could ride, Jim." She looked at her neighbor. 

"Sure," Kirk replied and stole a part of Spock's tart. "Bones has got to eat more," he said to the Vulcan with an apologizing twinkle. 

"Do you think you've got two appropriate horses for us?" Max asked. 

"Hmm-m. Come with me," she said. "I'll be right back," she added to the two men at her kitchen table. McCoy nodded, watching the visitors leave.

"Riding?" he asked with a rising brow. "Guess the rodeo was inspiring."

Outside, Jim and Max mounted two of Moira's horses. McCoy followed them with his eyes, tea forgotten. They looked rather good together. He was glad he wasn't really in a competition with Max. Or was he?

Moira opened the kitchen door and stopped on the threshold. "My god," she stated sharply, before taking another two steps into the kitchen, closing the door behind her. "Look at you. Why don't you simply say no? It's your house, not his anymore."

Spock froze. "This is a private matter, Moira. It is not your right to judge." 

"Maybe it's not my right, but I'm still allowed an opinion. I just have to look at your faces to see that you don't want them to hang around together like this."

"Moira," McCoy said warningly. "Spock's right. It's not your decision. It's ours."

"And you decided something, or did you just let him stomp all over you?"

Spock rose from his seat. "It appears that this meeting is not significantly more satisfying than the last one. I will take my leave." He snatched his coat and passed the enraged woman, walking into the yard.

"I'm coming with you," McCoy called after him. "Thanks for the tea and the cake, Moira," he said, and quietly added, "I'm sorry, but it's really not good talking about Jim like this."

"I don't get it," she said. "I just don't get what you see in him."

"You don't have to get it, Moira — only we have to." McCoy passed her and joined Spock. "Let's go," he said to the Vulcan. 

They quickly left the farm and walked home.

*

Spock and McCoy arrived at their house earlier than the other two, and started to prepare dinner, barely exchanging any words and only those that had to do with food. A certain in-limbo feeling had taken hold of McCoy again, and he strongly disliked it. Wallowing in self-pity was something he always felt like slapping his patients for, and to feel it rising in himself was a bad sign. When the food was prepared and ready for a short heating, he pulled Spock aside. "Let's go to the bath tub."

The Vulcan looked unconvinced at first, but then went with him to the bathroom. "Just for heating up," McCoy said and opened the inlet.

"Don't we waste a lot of energy and water for that?" Spock asked. 

"We can let it stay for a while, use it later again," McCoy said. He dropped his clothes. "Strip," he said. "I'm going to give you a massage."

Spock removed his clothes, but managed to look still unconvinced. 

"Why don't we sit into the bath tub while it's filling up," McCoy said as he climbed over the rim. The Vulcan joined him, and McCoy turned to him and clamped his hands onto Spock's tight shoulder muscles.

They sat in silence for a while, until Spock said unexpectedly, "When we told him to spend time with Max, I have not considered that this might mean the whole day."

McCoy laughed quietly. "Jealous, Spock?"

"This would be an emotion."

"Right. About the level of emotion you need to heat up my hands?"

"That was something different."

"Yeah, one was planned, the other wasn't." McCoy rubbed harder, both with his fingers and his words. "We gave him a day off, and he's using it. If anything, it was our fault. What would do you, make him forget the pain — the kind of pain that he craves? I doubt that you can easily distinguish between the 'good' and the 'bad' pain."

"I did, once," Spock said quietly.

"Excuse me," McCoy said sharply. "You said…what?"

"Doctor, there is no need to shout in my ear," Spock said and moved out of his grip, turning to sit down on the other side of the bath tub. 

"I thought I heard you saying 'I did, once'."

"These were my words, doctor." Spock took a deep breath. "In one single instance, I made Jim forget some of his pain."

McCoy thought hard. Then it dawned on him. "Rayna."

"Yes."

"How could you, Spock?" McCoy raised his hand as he saw Spock's deep frown. "I'm not accusing you — well, okay, maybe I am, but I really want to know what made you think that it would be the right solution. I know that it violates all of the Vulcan mind rules. You could've gotten into serious trouble — they might've even kicked you out of the fleet."

"There are points in my life where my personal obligations to someone outweigh all other interests, as you well know." 

"Yes, I remember Pike and all the trouble we went through for you. So — why did you do it?"

"There was too much pain. It was an illogical and unprecedented amount of pain, especially considering that Rayna had not been a real person. Someone must have been tampering with Jim's mind. I only counteracted this influence."

McCoy slowly nodded. "That's your excuse, Spock? Your real excuse? Logic?" He drilled his gaze into Spock, not giving him the room to pull away without giving away the truth.

"It would be….futile to dismiss that…other emotions took part in the decision too."

"What Sybok did, he did for love — or at least for something that he thought was love," McCoy said and stopped the water that was close to overflowing. 

"He did it in the attempt to heal his own wounds concerning his mother," Spock said. "And I did it trying to heal, if not mine, at least Jim's wounds."

"For love, Spock. You did it for love. No matter how misguided you might've been, that's the whole point of it. His love, your love — doesn't matter." McCoy shook his head. "You know, I understand you, and maybe I should be happy that your emotions surfaced a lot more than I thought in that first mission, but I'm also a bit shocked. I'd never have thought you'd really do something to him when I left."

"It was hearing your last statement that made me consider this possible approach, doctor."

"Mine?" McCoy asked, eyes enlarging. "What did I say?"

"I do wish he could forget her."

"That's not the same as saying, 'come on, Spock, tinker with his brain so that he feels better in the morning'!"

"I'm aware of this, doctor. However, he obviously was unable to forget, and so I helped him. Didn't you help your father in a similar…blind alley?"

"Yes, and I regretted it deeply for decades," McCoy stated sharply. 

"What makes you think that I did not regret it for a similar time span?" Spock said calmly.

McCoy stared at him, surprised and yet…not. "Why did Sybok go for that old bullshit?" he suddenly asked. "He hit everyone else's most painful spot right on target."

Spock didn't even pretend not to understand him. "He didn't have the power to read mine. It was Sybok himself who taught me how to broadcast the wrong images."

"He taught you how to lie telepathically." 

"He taught me how to work with emotions. For a long time, I had lost this knowledge — forced myself to bury it. It was only with him that many things came back."

"It's hard to believe that you remember anything at all from your childhood, given that there was Gol, your death, my brain and the fal-tor-pan in-between," McCoy said in disbelief. "And I doubt that Sybok was part of your re-schooling."

"Correct. It was only from old tapes that I found and chose to watch that I started to remember him."

Spock suddenly tilted his head, listening to some noises that were outside of McCoy's hearing range. "I think they are coming back. We should join them." He went up. "Leonard — I trust that you will not share your knowledge with Jim."

"Concerning Rayna? No." McCoy shook his head. "What good would it do? It's long over, and so much has happened in the meantime. We all have our little secrets, even between us."

Spock moved to him, pulling him up. "And I hope it did not damage your trust in me." Brown eyes searched his, as if they could read his mind even without touching. 

"A little," McCoy admitted. "It does change some of my images of the old Spock that was with us on the first five-year mission."

"I am still that man." 

"Yes and no," McCoy said. "You've changed — we have changed enough so that I can ignore what happened. It was a grave violation of Jim's limits, Spock, and you know that yourself. Non-consensual mental influence. I just hope that the next time you need to do something like that, you find another solution…or a better excuse for yourself."

"I hope that there will be no next time," Spock said gravely. 

McCoy serenely nodded. Then they went out and prepared themselves for a long evening with an unknown outcome. 

*

As they walked along the corridor to the living room, dressed in normal clothes and slippers, the odor of food greeted them. The table was set already, and Kirk drew close with a relaxed smile, patting them both on their shoulders.

"Did you have a good afternoon?" he asked. "Guessed you were in the bath tub, didn't want to disturb you."

"No problem, we were only talking," McCoy said. "Did you ride far?"

"Yes, quite a few miles." Kirk made a face. "That's why my legs ache a little. I guess tomorrow I'll have sore muscles. Max is taking care of dinner."

"You're feeling good, Jim?" McCoy asked him, eying Spock as the Vulcan passed Kirk and went into the kitchen…hopefully only checking on the state of the food.

"Yes, quite. We talked about a lot of people we both know. I lost contact with most of them, due to the many missions, but it's interesting to get back on track a little."

"Sure." McCoy patted Kirk's back. "You're nervous?" he asked with a smile.

"A bit." Kirk eyed the kitchen door. "Do you think Spock will be able to handle it?"

"If he said so, he will," McCoy said. 

"Thanks for supporting me," Kirk said.

McCoy stared at him. "Just be careful, Jim, will you? It's rather steep up there."

Kirk gazed at him in confusion, but then the door opened and they were interrupted. They parted and took seats while the other two served the dinner. 

McCoy tried to catch Spock's gaze and earned a small nod when he achieved it. Contrary to the day before, Spock seemed rather relaxed and joined their table talk, knowledgeable and with ease. 

It was a good sign, McCoy decided, and happily took a second bottle of beer.

*

It seemed to be a natural arrangement that Spock and McCoy took one couch, and Max and Jim the other one. However, the evening soon started to drag, with everyone obviously waiting for everyone else to start something — anything. 

Normally, Kirk would be the one to give the signal, but with Max, he usually had another role…and he didn't want to push his old friend into anything anyway. Even though he'd be pretty frustrated if nothing happened tonight.

Not being able to stand the growing tension any longer, he went into the kitchen with the lame excuse of getting some more beer. Max followed him swiftly.

"Max -?" Kirk asked, but then was pushed against the nearest empty wall and kissed roughly. What a start, he thought hazily as Max released him. 

"Come down to the dungeon in half an hour," Max whispered in Kirk's ear. "I'll be waiting for you."

"Max –"

"One time offer, Jim." Max drew away and walked out of the kitchen without looking back.

When Kirk walked back into the living room, Spock and McCoy looked at him. 

"Everything okay, Jim?" McCoy asked concerned. "Max just stalked through and obviously down the stairs."

"Oh yes. He told me to come to the dungeon in half an hour." Kirk felt his face slightly heat.

"Fine. Then there's no reason to look as if you snatched the cherries off the cake," McCoy said with a grin. 

"Should I change?" Kirk looked down on his clothes. "Or take a shower?"

"Do you expect an answer?" Spock asked with an arching brow.

Kirk looked up to face him. "Uh — not really. I'll refresh myself a little and…well." He hesitated.

"Get going, Jim." McCoy said. "Hurry up. He won't wait."

"No, he said as much." Kirk fingered his chin. "Well, I'll be back later." He straightened his back and vanished into the corridor and towards the shower.

*

"Isn't he cute?" McCoy smiled and shook his head. "Sometimes he's like a kid." He looked at Spock. "We've got half an hour," he said. 

"What for?" Spock asked.

"To find the most comfortable spot for playing fly on the wall."

"You want to watch?"

"A bit, yes. I don't think Jim needs anyone for protection, but I'm darn curious." McCoy shed a gaze at his seat neighbor. "You'd rather not see anything?"

"I have made no decision so far," Spock replied evasively.

McCoy combed his hair. "But we could watch in the kitchen, right?"

"Yes. Or in any of the bedrooms. Or here."

"Oh, right." McCoy looked at the large screen that was on the opposite wall, but since they never used it, it was more of a decoration for him. "No, I don't think I need it in movie size," he said. "But a view from the kitchen screen would be something."

"You have seen him making love in the past, correct?"

"You mean, besides with you? Yes, sometimes we hung out together on shore leaves, like we wanted to on Argelius II. And if it happened that we ended up with two girls somewhere, it was okay." McCoy looked at Spock again. "Nothing ever happened between us, it was just two straight couples. But if we ended up on the same big mattress or in the same pool, it was okay. There's something very hot about seeing others enjoying themselves."

"You didn't know that he was interested in men?"

"Oh, sure, it's in his medical file. But that was something theoretical — a third of the crew has the same tag, it's nothing unusual. And I never saw him having anything with a man. But of course, I had heard about Gary Mitchell, even though I never met him in person."

Spock nodded. "He had a…challenging personality."

"You didn't get along?" McCoy asked.

"No."

"Hmm-mm," McCoy said. "But I guess Max is rather different, right?"

"Very different indeed," Spock agreed. "Mister Mitchell had a tendency to challenge with words, without ever reflecting on the possible hurt he could cause." 

"Well, I've heard that Gary had been nicer at the academy, but was jealous that Jim was moving faster through the ranks. It rankled with him and made him…who he was."

"You are wording it rather nicely, but to exhibit a behavior as Mister Mitchell had, he had to have certain personality traits even before they got displayed."

"You mean an asshole stays an asshole?" McCoy chuckled quietly.

"Not quite these words, but…yes."

"But you never said so to Jim."

"No, and I never would." Spock stared down at his hands that lay parallel on his thighs. "I did not have much concept of love at that time, but I always knew that Jim only accepted Mitchell's behavior because some strong personal feelings were involved. I'm positive that if Max had abused him like that, Jim would've broken the contact instantly."

"Sometimes we fall in love before we realize that the person is all wrong," McCoy said with a sigh. "And we often don't manage to turn off the feeling so easily, even if we get hurt again and again." He put his hand on Spock's left one. "There were times when I would have liked to switch places with you. For all my needling and my firm belief that you shouldn't shut down your emotions quite that much, at times I would've liked to be able to handle them like you."

"I know, Leonard. I always knew that." Spock closed his other hand over McCoy's one. "We were antagonists because it was our nature and because it was what Jim needed. But our actions always spoke more than our words, and our mutual respect and feelings of friendship were never at question." 

"Yes." McCoy nodded, trying to fight the building lump in his throat. He felt his chin touched, guided around to face the Vulcan. 

"It was only logical to bring our friendship to another stage, and I've never regretted it." Spock said gently. He pulled McCoy into a human kiss, almost achingly sweet. 

When McCoy pulled away, he heaved a big sigh. "Considering that you're a Vulcan, you can be terribly romantic." He rubbed his eyes, not willing to turn into a puddle of emotions right now. "How late is it anyway?" he asked Spock. "We're going to miss the show."

"We are right on time, doctor," Spock said.

They got up from the couch and walked into the kitchen, where Spock switched on the screen and dialed down to the dungeon, choosing the camera that allowed the best view of the still single occupant. 

McCoy took the barstool closest to the screen. "We're just missing chips and coke," he joked, feeling a little sizzling feeling rising in his stomach. He was rather sure that he'd be able to live with the pictures, but Spock was another case. The Vulcan kept standing on the other side of the table, ignoring the stools. On screen, their guest idly walked through the dimly lit dungeon, obviously checking equipment although there were already some things arranged on one of the low tables. He wore what McCoy could only call a cliché outfit — tight black pants of leather or something similar, and an open vest that showed off his well-built upper body. He also wore a pair of black gloves and heavy, knee-high, laced black boots that looked as if he worked as chucker-out on the dark side of the moon …but for all the cliché, it still looked great, McCoy admitted to himself.

Then the door of the dungeon opened and Kirk walked in. 

On with the show, McCoy thought and took a tight hold of the edge of the table.

*

"Max." Kirk remained in the door for a moment, giving his eyes time to adjust to the low light. He also didn't know what to expect right now; it had been a while since they'd played together, and he didn't want to make any mistakes.

"Come in and close the door." Max drew near. "Jeans all around?" he asked with a look at Kirk's outfit, which consisted of a white t-shirt, blue jeans and sneakers.

"We came here with our camping gear," Kirk reminded him. "Didn't have time to get my chaps…or anything else." He slipped his fingers under the vest, rubbing along the other one's well-defined chest in admiration. "You look like twenty years ago," he whispered.

"Only?" Max asked amused. "Must be doing something wrong." He laced his fingers into Kirk's hair and pulled him into a kiss like the one in the kitchen; a real kiss, deep, probing, challenging — the kind of kiss that went right between a man's legs to start fireworks. Max directed Kirk's head the way he wanted it. Kirk's hands left the chest, relaxing at his sides over the kisses. His knees got weak too, but his breathing got harder. 

Finally, Max drew away. "Stay as you are."

Kirk nodded and froze in place.

Max walked around him, fetching the hood he'd prepared. It was like a sack, with a thin chain running through the collar end, and he slipped it over Jim's head, quickly fastening the chain around his neck and closing it with a lock. 

Max stepped in front of Jim and placed his hands over the hood, feeling the face below it. The hood was of a nontransparent material like sailcloth, through which breathing was harder but possible. Max's hands caressed along the line of the hidden face before he pulled his victim into a hinted kiss, pressing his lips against the material. Then he released him again. "Everything alright?" he asked quietly.

The hooded head nodded.

"Fine," Max murmured and fetched a pair of old-fashioned handcuffs with a short chain in-between. "Put your arms back," he ordered. Jim complied, and Max chained his wrists behind his back. The handcuffs were swiftly followed by similar ankle cuffs, which would allow only very limited movements. 

From behind, Max massaged from his shoulders down his arms. There was tension, but not more than expected. 

In a quick, unexpected movement, Max slung his arm around Kirk's neck, then pushed his leg into Kirk's knees. 

Kirk gasped behind the hood as he landed heavily on the hard floor. 

*

When the first kicks hit Kirk's body, Spock made a sudden jerk, and took a step towards the door. 

McCoy quickly reached out for Spock over the table without really touching him. "Hold on, Spock."

"But –" Spock forced his eyes away from the screen, looking at McCoy in alarm. "This is violence."

"They know what they're doing," McCoy said. "Can you imagine Jim taking an unwanted beating the way he is doing right now without fighting back?"

Spock briefly looked at the screen and away again. "Probably — not."

"No, he wouldn't," McCoy stressed. "And Max only kicks in a way and in areas that don't really hurt. It looks a lot more brutal than it is."

Spock's gaze returned to the display. By now, a riding crop had been added to the ambush, leaving a few red marks on Jim's white arms and probably in many other, invisible spots. The Vulcan digested the scene for a while, face frozen. "You are correct. But still…I cannot understand it. Do you?" 

McCoy looked at the screen, getting his psychological knowledge into gear. "Imagine two adolescent boys at the academy, in the command track — the hardest of them all — full of testosterone and with the consistent need to prove to others and themselves that they're the best. And combine that with an inclination to get aroused by control in a sexual way, too." 

"And…pain." It almost seemed to hurt Spock just to say the word. 

"Obviously. There are a lot of studies showing that pain and lust are loosely connected in every human's brain. The wiring is just stronger in some, and nobody knows why."

"So you don't mind this?" Spock's eyes searched his, a deep frown written all over the Vulcan's features. On the screen, the beating had ended and Max was kneeling down next to Kirk's tilted legs, opening the fly of the jeans. McCoy saw the strong erection jutting out and hoped Spock registered it too. 

"I can assess the situation with a clinical distance," McCoy answered Spock's question. "But I feel disconnected from it. It's not something I could ever do…I doubt we could ever do it, not only because we lack the motivation, but also the distance to Jim."

Spock took three deep breathes, then slowly returned his focus back to the display. There, Max had his gloved hand around Kirk's stiff member and pumped in a characteristic way.

"It is obvious that Jim agrees with this treatment," Spock admitted after a while. "I will simply accept this for now, although the involved emotions escape my analysis." 

McCoy nodded. "If you're uncomfortable, we can always switch it off."

Spock shook his head. "That is not necessary. Although it is rather challenging to watch, it is also very…." He searched the right word and failed, starting again, "It also offers an insight into a part of Jim's personality that had escaped me so far."

"Alright." McCoy looked at the screen again, where Max had brought up Kirk to his knees, the open jeans shoved down to the ankle cuffs. He pulled him to a nearby set of wall bars and forced the chained arms up so that Kirk had to tilt forward in a crouched position, head on the ground. Chaining the cuffs to the bars, Max left his victim in a uncomfortable situation with his bare ass exposed to the room…and the viewers at the cams. Max knelt down and removed the ankle cuffs, shoes and jeans, then pushed his knees apart. After spreading a large amount of lube from a can onto a black, slim police bat, he slipped the weapon along his crack in a teasing movement, then inserted it slowly.

*

Max relaxed a bit as he moved the bat in and out, fucking the ass. A part of him was still angry about Jim's behavior and being pulled into such a complex relationship situation as they had here, but Max had long learned to channel bits and pieces of his anger and aggression into such scenes. The kicking had allowed him to get rid of most of it, to the advantage of them both. What was left now was just enough to fuel his own arousal, bringing that little edge into their game where Jim didn't know what to expect from him. 

He'd planned some things for tonight, but his preparations were only a loose guideline and he usually ended up doing a lot of things on of the spur of the moment. Like this here. Forcing the bat rather deep into Jim, he thought of his next steps. There was the inflatable plug which he could put inside his playmate and spread the ass for later use. Or maybe he should just make good use of the ass right away. In a quick decision, he pulled out the bat and took his own erection in hands, stroking it. 

"You know what I'm going to do now," he said. "I'm going to fuck you, Jim, as hard and long as I can, and then I will come all over your ass." 

He tried not to think about the men that were likely watching him. He'd played at open parties often enough, but it was hard when feeling the scrutinizing gazes of a partner's lover on his back. There were many things he wanted to do with Jim that he didn't feel comfortable doing tonight. Maybe next time…maybe never again. But no matter what, he'd fuck him now until the horny little bitch begged for release.

With one hand, he reached around Kirk's hip; with the other one, he guided his dick into the wet, ready hole. Hearing Jim's welcoming moan was all Max needed to get going.

*

Kirk's head swam in a wild mixture of pain and arousal. His body ached from the strained position, his hands slowly growing cold from the restricted circulation in his wrists, but he barely registered that. Feeling Max ramming into him overshadowed his hurting knees and ribs and the scratches on his face he'd taken from the chains of the hood when he fell onto them a few times when rolling away from the kicks. He was taken as long and hard as promised, pierced deeply by the intrusion, but after a while he felt the rhythm changing in a well-known way. After that, it didn't take much longer before he felt the first load of hot liquid shooting into him. The dick slipped out, drawing a wet path out of his ass before another load landed on his backside, followed by a few more drops that merged with his sweat and the older spots. Slowly, semen dribbled down his skin and cheeks, making him feel used in a weird, sick, mind-blowing way. His own dick was so hard he thought it'd burst to pieces, but there was no release for him yet. Feeling the liquids cooling on his body, he sank deeper down on his knees, the pain in his wrists like a faint echo from someone else's body, strange and alien. But he wouldn't beg. Never.

*

"I think I've seen enough," Spock said suddenly. "Would you accompany me to the bath tub again?"

"Hmm?" McCoy looked away from the screen on which he'd followed the fucking as if hypnotized. It seemed as if a rather suppressed part of his mind could find something arousing in this particular scene, and his own erection strained against his pants. It made him wonder if Spock would have a problem dealing with the fact that McCoy wasn't totally immune against the S&M action on screen. "Well…"

"I would really enjoy your company," Spock said serenely and offered his hand.

McCoy slipped down the bar stool. "Maybe I should warn you -" he started to say, but Spock clasped him with one hand, while closing the other one around his neck and pulling him into a kiss. 

"Guess that explains everything," McCoy murmured, grinding his hard dick against Spock's. Wordlessly, Spock switched off the screen before they hastily went to the bathroom. 

*

With a sigh, Max sank back on his heels and took a deep breath. With both hands, he rubbed the sticky liquid into the white skin, pushing his fingers inside the wet ass a few more times in between. Oh, he'd make Jim come so hard…soon. With slightly shivering legs, he went up and opened the chain that held the wrist cuffs to the bars, then helped Kirk up and into the comfortable sling he had prepared for tonight. There, he pulled up his friend's legs up and tied the ankles to the two metal chains at the lower end, then locked the wrist cuffs to the chains next to Kirk's shoulders. The fifth chain was at the very top, keeping the edge of the sling up on which the hooded head came to rest. 

"You're so beautiful when you're horny," Max said, once again putting two fingers into the lovely ass in front of him while stroking the bobbing erection with his other one. It was a rather wet channel, from all the lube and his sperm — just the right amount of wet for his next idea. He quickly fetched the electrical play kit. There was one slightly bent anal electrode which he could put into good use. 

"You'll get something very special up your ass now, sweetheart," he said slightly mockingly. "It's originally for sheep — or rather for rams, when they need to deliver their sperm for the sperm bank." He moved it along the ass crack until it found the right spot, then pushed it inside. It fit perfectly.

"You're my little ram now, and we're going to milk you down with this thing," he said and connected the wires to the operator device, on which he could set the intensity and frequency of the AC current. 

"There's no reason yet to breathe so hard," Max said. "I didn't even switch it on yet." He worked on the little dials. "But now…"

There was another deep breath from his victim in the sling, but Max knew that it was still on the lowest level; there wasn't really much to feel. And it wasn't the first time either he had used something like that on Jim — it was only the first time he fully intended to let Jim suffer until he'd come just from the electro stimulation of his prostrate. Slowly he increased the intensity, but kept the frequency at a rather low level. It would send regular waves of electricity though Kirk's groin, giving him the optimal stimulation.

Jim groaned behind the gag, but it was a good kind of groan, and the erection happily nodded its head with every little jerk of the body. Maybe he shouldn't be quite that nasty, Max thought. He'd give him twenty minutes — after that, he'd help Jim to jerk off.

Until then, Max passed the time walking around the sling and stroking Jim's chest, stimulating the so far untouched nipples; scratching along the spread, offered legs and putting kisses on the outer side of the hood. There was much one could do to further arousal. The minutes went by and the erection looked ready to explode, but it didn't. Finally, Max moved between Kirk's legs again and touched the engorged organ, stroking it with skilled fingers in the way Jim loved it the most. 

His victim's head lolled from side to side as he increased his movements and stimulated the glans, his other hand massaging the balls. Once in a while, Max also dialed-up the electricity a little more, which markedly increased Jim's activity in the sling. 

"Come on," he rasped, his fingers accelerating their ups and downs. "If you take too long, I might just stop and let you lay here with that electrode up your ass until you come all on your own. I could go upstairs and get a beer from the kitchen, watching you on screen while you're getting tortured by such a little device. How long do you think it would take you to get off, hmm? A few hours? I've seen men hold out for a day. Since it wears out, you've got to increase the intensity over time."

Jim shook his head.

"You don't want that? You want to come now? Then do it. Get your orgasm before I change my mind." Max stroked faster, closing his gloved hand to a tighter grip around the shaft. His thumb roughly rubbed over the lower edge of the glans, distributing slick pre-cum over it.

"Come on." Max repeated, and pushed two fingers in next to the electrode, spreading Jim wide. His victim's breathing got harsh, the chest shivering, the leg muscles contracting, and Max knew that the climax was impending…just a little more…

Then Max felt it under his fingers as Jim's orgasm made its way from the depth of his groin. The semen went out in thick blobs, prevented from shooting by Max's fingers that still tightly held the jerking organ, and he milked it down until Jim ran dry. Then he switched off the electrode. There was visible relief going through his friend's body, and Kirk sagged into the sling's strong leather.

Max took some cleansing paper and rubbed his own hands first, then took some more sheets to clean Jim's groin before discarding the gloves. When this was done, he walked around the sling to Kirk's side and hugged him before carefully removing the hood.

"Max…" Jim whispered, and he leaned down to kiss him deeply. 

"Satiated?" Max asked. 

"Very." Jim's eyes flickered and closed again. "Woah." 

Max used Jim's regeneration time to diligently unlock all limbs, then helped him up from the sling and down to the bed. On it, Jim stretched out. "Holy fuck," he murmured.

"Again?" Max asked amused, cradling him in his arms. 

"No, thanks. I feel rather raw right now. Oh. Woah." They lay in an embrace for a while before Kirk found the energy to rise again and they sat up on the edge of the bed together. 

"Was it okay, Jim?" Max asked, his arm around Kirk's shoulder. "I know that electricity isn't your favorite –"

"No, it was fine. I could eroticize a lot tonight."

"Good." Max stroked his shoulder. "What about going upstairs?" he asked.

"Yes. Good idea." Kirk hazily went up and searched for his pants and shoes. 

"Here." Max gave them to him. "Take care, you're still high." 

"I know…" Kirk tried to get dressed, but Max held him back. "Let's take a shower first, in the stalls of the swimming pool area."

"Sure," Kirk said. "Of course." He took a deep breath, then shakily grinned. "Is it only my impression or have you played a lot nastier in the past?" he asked.

"Jimmy-darling, in the past you didn't have two partners who'll have my balls for breakfast if I split one non-negotiated hair," Max said with a small laughter.

"Oh no." Kirk smiled and shook his head. "Well, okay, I guess Bones would get the balls out and Spock would feed them to the neighbor's dog." He poked Max. "You're jealous, admit it."

"I don't know." Max leaned against the wooden bench and took his vest over his arm. "I never had a close relationship like this, and I'm not sure it would work out. I like to play around a little more."

"I did too — in the past."

Max smiled. "They're very special people. Not the kind you'd ever get to know at a party."

"Definitely not. And we had a long way to go before we found this way of being together," Kirk said seriously.

Max walked over and patted Kirk on his back. "You're in love right up to your ears, and it's beautiful to see." 

"Yes." Kirk closed his arms around his friend. "But it was great being with you tonight." 

"Let's hope it was worth it and they're still talking to you tomorrow."

"Let's go and test it." 

They switched the light off and left the dungeon, taking a brief shower before returning upstairs.

*

The living-room was empty, and they proceeded to the trio's sleeping room, which was empty too. Only when they got to the bathroom door could they hear the soft sound of splashing water. 

Max leaned against the wall and crossed his arms. "You look." 

Kirk opened the door and peeked around the corner. Spock leaned at the edge of the bath tub, water up to his neck, and McCoy sat in his lap in an unambiguous position. On the small sound of the door, they turned their heads toward Kirk. He smiled as he saw their relaxed but unfocused gaze.

See you later, he voiced silently and closed the door again. Max lifted his brows in question. 

"They're occupied," Kirk said.

"You want to join them?" 

"No, I think they're fine as they are. Let's go to the kitchen, I need something to drink."

They had some water, then took two bottles of beer and sat down in the living room, Kirk on the couch, Max in the single armchair, exchanging old stories. When the bottles were empty, they moved on to whiskey, which made the stories even funnier.

*

"…and then Laura walked into the darkroom which wasn't dark at all with that long whip in her hand, and she said –" Max stopped in the middle of his sentence as McCoy padded into the room, wearing nothing but a closed bathrobe. 

"Bones!" Kirk said. "Didn't hear you!"

"That's because you make a noise like two drunken Klingons," McCoy retorted, but grinned. He eyed the scene; Kirk lay on the couch, one arm behind his head as cushion; Max hung in the armchair, one leg stretched out on the floor, the other over the armrest. The bottle on the table was almost empty, and the smiles on their faces broad and relaxed. They were definitely having a good time.

"Where's Spock?" Kirk asked.

"He's taking a break from socializing," McCoy leaned over the table and took the bottle. "Hmmm, great stuff," he said after sniffing at it. "Mind if I share?"

"Take the rest," Kirk said. "I think we've had more than enough, right?" he added with a look at Max.

"Oh yes," Max said slightly slurred and waved his almost empty glass.

McCoy sank into the other couch and took a gulp from the bottle.

Max downed his drink, sat up — in which he succeeded only after the second attempt — and shakily moved to stand. 

"You leaving us?" Kirk asked. 

"Yes, I'm, going to bed. Have a good night, gents." He knocked on the table with a hazy smile and left them.

When he was gone, Kirk looked at McCoy. "Wanna come over?" he asked and patted the couch. 

"Sure." 

Kirk moved to the side, and McCoy sank into the cushions next to him, the bottle still in his hand. "That's a really good whiskey," he said and took another sip.

"Hmmm-hm." Kirk eyed him. "Now…did you spy on us?" 

McCoy played with the bottle in his hand. "Yes, a bit."

"And?" Kirk eyed him.

"Well, you've gotta ask Spock about his thoughts, but I found it, well…interesting and at times rather hot."

"Interesting?"

"Yes," McCoy said. "Well, you know, Jim, it's a bit hard on us playing the boss in such a game. We're not exactly proficient in it either. But Max knows what he's doing."

"And you liked watching it?"

"For a while. Until we were sure you were doing alright."

Kirk grinned. "You think I need to be protected?"

"What do you think we've spent the last decades doing?" McCoy retorted and emptied the bottle. "We're trying to keep you from getting killed by your own feeling of grandeur."

"Here, take the rest of mine," Kirk offered him his half-full glass. McCoy accepted it.

"So you worried about me?" 

"Not really," McCoy conceded. "But it's not everyday that we let you go down into a full-fledged dungeon with someone else."

"And I'm very thankful that you did let me." Kirk leaned closer. "And that you had some fun of your own." He smiled.

"Whadayyathink, that we'd get all stoned and heartbroken?" McCoy put one leg above the other and took a gulp of the whiskey. "That bath tub is heaven-sent."

Kirk put his hand on McCoy's knee. "Bones…"

McCoy placed his free hand above it and met his gaze "I feel fine, Jim. How about going to bed and joining Spock there?" He downed the rest of the liquid. 

Without a word, Kirk went up and pulled McCoy with him. At least, he tried; being shakier than he expected, they tumbled against the table. McCoy took his friend into a patented doctor's grip. 

"Slowly, Jim," he said with a grin. "One foot after the other."

Arm in arm they went to the bed room, needing a little more space on the left and right than normal in their wiggly lines. Spock lay on the side of the bed, arms folded in his typical meditative pose. They slipped under the covers next to him with as little disturbance as they could muster. Kirk ended in the middle but tried to stay away from Spock who didn't move a muscle. All was well, it seemed, and if there was anything left to clean up, they'd do it tomorrow.

*

The morning crept into Kirk's vision very slowly and as just a lighter gray; it seemed that the day wasn't really sunny and bright. Or maybe it was the lingering headache that clouded this morning. Otherwise, he seemed fine. And there was an arm lying around his hip with the hand ending between his legs. It was a rather possessive position, and it was a good guess that the arm belonged to...

"Spock…?" Kirk murmured.

"Shhh." The hand began moving, stroking his already existing morning hard-on. Once in a while it slipped deeper and fondled the balls, then went up again to resume its teasing touch. Kirk was about to beg for more when the hand moved to his leg and lifted it upwards. He slightly leaned back and spread his legs. An erection poked into his buttocks, but didn't quite hit the goal until he reached down and maneuvered it into the right position. Then the intrusion came quickly, claiming him in one swift movement that made him gasp. The hand moved from his leg to his erection and closed around it, the thumb right on the glans. The body behind him started moving and the hand moved with it in a regular rhythm. It was as pragmatic and controlled as only Spock could do it. It was also the quickest way to make Kirk climax, taking no more than a few minutes. 

Sight blurred for a second as Kirk gasped for air, trying to resurface from the slight system shock. Then he turned around. "Spock…" He put his hand on the Vulcan's cheek and leaned into a kiss. It was answered without hesitation. "Was it very bad last night?"

Spock raised a brow. "Bad?"

"Irritating. Emotionally challenging. Something like that." Kirk sank into the cushion, eying the Vulcan.

"Why do you assume that?"

"Maybe because this just felt a lot like claiming me?"

Spock propped his head on his hand and put the other one on Kirk's chest. "I woke you up the same way yesterday."

"That's true."

"Is it possible that you have a guilty conscience?"

Kirk pondered. "Maybe," he relented.

"Or did Leonard give you the impression that I had a problem dealing with your actions?" 

"Not at all. And I know that he didn't mind. In fact, he said you two watched part of it on the screen and that he personally found it interesting and hot."

Spock nodded. "I agree with his assessment."

Kirk's eyes widened. "You found it hot?"

"Mostly…interesting."

"Not a little bit hot? Come on, I can see that little twist at the edge of your mouth. You're teasing me."

Spock left the bed. "It is rather amusing to see you harboring a guilty conscience without reason, Jim." He donned a shirt and pants.

"Hey, I just want to be sensitive and thoughtful." Kirk went up too, but preferred a bathrobe.

"Your concern is noted. However, it is irrelevant and can only impose belated strain on a negotiated event that was satisfying for you and acceptable for us. Therefore I would advise you to abstain from it."

Kirk gaped at him. "Okay…" he managed to say, and then swiftly followed Spock out of the door. They followed the smell of fresh rolls and eggs and found Max and McCoy already sitting opposite each other at the table in relaxed conversation. 

McCoy toasted with his cup. He wore a bathrobe, but not as tightly closed around his figure as usual. It left the red triangle visible. "Good morning," he greeted them. "I hope you slept well." 

"Wonderful," Kirk said. He went over and pressed a kiss to McCoy's cheek. "You're seducing Max in the meantime?" He gave Max a deep smile but stayed on his side of the table.

"Sure." McCoy twinkled to the man opposite to them. "My favorite hobby. Seducing the lovers of my lovers." 

"Looks like." Kirk took a cup of coffee and sat down next to McCoy, eying the empty plate in front of the doctor. 

"I was actually on my way out for a walk when Len caught me," Max said. "The weather's clearing up, and I need some fresh air." 

"You don't have to leave because of us," Spock said. 

"I know — but I also don't have to stay right now," Max replied lightly. He gave a nod to the group, took his sweater and left the kitchen through the back door. 

Kirk looked after him, shaking his head with amusement. "Didn't know the two of you were so intimidating." 

"He only wanted us to give a moment to talk — in case we didn't get enough," McCoy said.

Kirk's gaze darted from one to the other. "We did, didn't we?"

"No problem here," McCoy agreed. 

Spock nodded. "It was an acceptable situation."

"Fine. Now that that's out of the way…" Kirk nudged closer to McCoy. "You didn't have much to eat last night, right? And you didn't eat anything yet this morning, did you?" he asked.

"Didn't feel like it," McCoy admitted. "Hey, at least I had two cups of coffee." 

Kirk gestured Spock, and Spock took the barstool left of McCoy. 

"We had a deal," Kirk said, giving a first-class impersonation of a Mafia boss — at least on the level he had done on Sigma Iota II. He placed two rolls and an egg on McCoy's plate, then positioned butter and jam around it. He also carefully added a slice of cheese and an apple for good measure. 

"You're going to eat something this morning," he stated. 

McCoy stared at him with a deep frown. "Jim -" 

"Spock totally agrees with me that you're not keeping your part of the deal, mister."

McCoy looked at the Vulcan only to see him nod serenely. He turned his head back to Kirk. 

"Jim, I –"

"Silence, mister." 

Out of thin air, Kirk pulled a thin chain and a small lock from under the kitchen table. Before McCoy really registered what was happening, his necklace was tied to the chain. He angrily stared down at it. "Jim, you're out of your mind!" he said sharply. "Spock — you can't let him do that!" He pulled the chain; it was long enough to hang in a slope down his chest before it curved to the underside of the table, but he couldn't get far with it. "Spock!" His eyes darted back and forth between his lovers, but one looked absolutely serious, the other one really smug. 

"Let's have a shower," Kirk said and slipped from the stool. Spock followed him. 

"Wait till I get away from it," McCoy shouted after them when they vanished into the house. "You're going to pay for that!" He was fuming; it had been okay with that triangle dog tag, but it was something entirely else to chain him up in the kitchen, where someone might step in any time from the back door. He touched the chain and followed it down to where it was attached to the table, but found it securely locked there too. Jim had to have prepared it well in advance, and he'd have his head for this. Bastard.

He looked down on the plate; he hated to have big breakfasts, and Jim and Spock knew that very well. Two rolls, where would he even fit them in? And all that other stuff. 

McCoy was close to throwing it all onto the floor, but he was never one to play around with food. Therefore, he only shoved the plate to the faraway edge of the table. They could let him wait here all day, he wouldn't back down. 

Bastards.

He took his cup; it was almost empty, but he wasn't able to reach the pot. If looks could kill, the poor kitchenette would burst to flames. But it didn't bring the coffee any closer to him. 

And then the back door opened and Max stepped in. McCoy hastily tried to hide the chain in the folds of his bathrobe, but he doubted that Max would be fooled. He felt his face coloring, a red hot blush creeping up his neck. He would have liked to avoid looking at the man, but that was hard when you needed to greet someone. Besides, they'd spent a nice hour in chatty talk this morning, and it would look even more suspicious if he clamped his mouth shut now.

"So, how's the weather?" McCoy asked as Max pulled off the sweater. 

"Rather fine," Max said, seemingly ignoring the plate on the edge of the table and McCoy's slightly cramped position.

"I'll have a coffee. Do you want some more too?" he asked.

McCoy nodded in relief. "Yes, please." He held up his cup, and Max poured the black liquid into it. 

"I'm already hungry again," Max said.

"Help yourself," McCoy said and pointed at his plate. "It's untouched." 

"But it's yours. I wouldn't want to interfere with your partners." 

"Wimp." McCoy glared at him. 

"I learned ages ago that there's nothing less welcome than taking a hand in other people's games." Max shed a tell-tale gaze at the visible part of the chain.

McCoy sighed, but was unable to really keep up his anger in the eye of someone who handled this situation completely matter-of-factly. "I guess you're used to people chained up around here," he said, slightly relaxing on his stool. "They're playing mother hens of the kinky variety. You spoiled Jim."

"I'd rather say we spoiled each other," Max said and took a fresh plate out of the cabinet, preparing a roll with strawberry jam for himself. 

"Tell me — what do you see in these games? What attracts you?" 

Max thoughtfully looked at him. "There are many aspects. I think the main ones are the power and control issues; there's something very relaxing to give in to someone else's demands. You're allowed to stop thinking, wondering; it gives you a break from the burden of deciding what to do, how to be. Or on the active side, it allows you to be a lot more direct than usual. Instead of asking nicely, you can order. Instead of trying hard to coax someone into doing something, you can just take him and make him do it.

"But there's also an aspect of caring. Lots of people aren't used to being looked after, and have a hard time accepting the sincere interests of others in their well-being. Within the games, they can be shown what that means in a more direct way."

"You nailed it, Max," McCoy said with another sigh. 

"And does it work for you?" Max asked.

McCoy stared down at the chain. "I'm not sure. I know what they're trying to convey, but I hate it when Jim gets so bossy with me."

"He's your captain. Doesn't he order you around a lot?"

"Not much; we've been working together for so long, it all goes rather smoothly."

"But you're still in Starfleet. You're used to being given orders and giving orders yourself. It's not that far from the play situation."

"But that's my professional situation. Something I got accustomed to, but I don't really like it."

Max eyed him. "Did you ever send someone of your men into danger, even death?"

"Yes," McCoy said slowly. "A lot more than I'd ever thought. It was extremely hard. Sometimes I don't know how Jim can live with that responsibility."

"Well, maybe because he sometimes took a break from it. With you, his friends, on a shore leave, or with me on some nice bar. With me, he could step back from them for a moment and let himself get ordered around — without a danger to anyone's life." 

"Hmmm-mm." McCoy took another sip. "I understand how Jim ticks at that point."

"But you're not sure how you tick?" Max asked. "What's in the game for you?" 

"Oh, we had a few games," McCoy said, feeling his cheeks warming again. He'd never talked about them in detail with anyone, and he probably never would, as the memories left him shamefaced — even though they were a turn-on. "The caring is alright as long as it's within a negotiated situation. But I've got a problem when the game suddenly spills into our normal relationship." He felt the tension bursting in his stomach; that was the real point, and saying it out loud made him shake. "Like this here."

Max nodded in wordless understanding.

"I'm not their plaything. Even as their subordinate, they wouldn't handle me like this. And I don't want to see that here either." McCoy clamped his hands around the cup. "I hate it."

"Shall I get Jim for you?" Max asked earnestly. 

"Yes. Yes, dammit, get him here." 

"He'll be here in a minute." Max slipped from his stool and left the kitchen. 

McCoy took a deep breath, trying to control his inner shaking. 

*

Max walked along the corridor. He'd known that he would step into a very unusual constellation if he came here, but he hadn't quite realized how complex it would be. Three extremely intelligent, mature and self-aware people who still had their special weaknesses that lay traps for them once in a while — it was a delicate balance, which their latest mission seemed to have brought out of equilibrium. He wasn't sure what had happened, but Moira had alluded to alien influence and mind control, and these weren't themes to be taken lightly. He wasn't sure if Jim realized that his lovers weren't as self-confident as they used to be at the moment. That they had allowed Max in was more because of Jim's insistence, Max was sure, and although he'd played along, it wasn't his favorite pastime to rattle other people's relationships. 

Jim was pushing in his usual way, and causing some bruises. McCoy had told him about the climbing and fall which might have killed Jim if not for the Vulcan's quick reaction. It was unlike Jim to risk his neck like this, and Max wondered if Kirk's current actions were just as risky for the triangle.

It all didn't sit well with Max. 

Following the low noises, he reached the bathroom door and knocked. "Max here."

"Come in," Kirk's voice said, and he opened the door to glimpse inside. The two men were dressed in bathrobes and in front of the mirror. They turned to him, and he caught Kirk's gaze. "Jim, we need to talk."

"I have no secrets from Spock," Kirk said. 

Max went inside, closing the door behind him. "I just had a talk with Len. I think you should go back and set him free instantly."

"Should I?" Kirk said, slightly challenging.

"Yes. At least if you care for your relationship with him," Max stated sharply. "If you don't, go ahead and push your friends like you did over the last weeks. I bet they can take a lot from you, or they wouldn't be with you anymore anyway."

Spock averted his case, visibly uncomfortable with his statement.

"So you know them better than I do?" Kirk asked with a deep frown.

"I know you, Jim, and you've always be willing to make your own way, sometimes at the expense of the people who love you." 

"I didn't know I'd invited you to give me a psych evaluation," Kirk retorted. "Long relationships aren't your foremost field of expertise anyway, are they?"

"No. But I know a lot about how people's minds work."

"And I don't?"

"You do, but you walk all over them anyway, if you want to. You're the captain; you've got to do that at times. But it won't work in your relationship."

Kirk took a deep breath, his anger as quickly vanishing as it had appeared. His eyes darted to Spock. 

"Is he right?" Kirk asked quietly. "Am I being too pushy?"

"Not much more than we're used to," Spock replied.

"But it's been too much lately, right?"

"We've all made mistakes in the last weeks."

"That's a very typical Vulcan answer. And very telling." Kirk smiled tiredly. "I'll go to Bones."

"I'll come with you," Spock said.

"No, Spock — I was the one who fucked up, and I'm going to be the one to fix it again." Kirk held Spock's hand for a moment. Then he looked at Max. 

"Thanks, Max. I need someone to give me a piece of his mind once in a while."

"No problem," Max said with a nod. He moved out into the corridor and watched Kirk's back as his friend left for the kitchen. When he felt the Vulcan's gaze resting on him, he turned his head. 

"Mister Spock?"

"I wonder if you would like to accompany me on a walk," the Vulcan said. 

"Sure."

"I will change into something more formal. I will be back in a minute." Spock passed him and went into their bedroom. 

Max rubbed his face and stifled a yawn as he went to his own room to fetch his jacket. His sweater was still in the kitchen and he didn't want to walk in on Jim and Len. A part of him wondered if Spock had asked him out because he wanted to get out the house himself, or if he wanted to get Max out of the house. 

In any case, this stay was a lot more demanding than expected. He stifled another yawn as he took a little pill for sobering. They've had too much whiskey last night, and they weren't getting any younger. Even though he tried his best, he thought as he eyed himself in the mirror, his broad shoulders and slim waistline, his well-defined muscles and the dyed hair. He was still a man who was never short of young, beautiful lovers, but there were moments in which he wondered for how long he would be able keep up this lifestyle. There were a few lonely nights in which he had pondered his inability to have closer relationships over a significant length of time. However, seeing Kirk's situation here once more demonstrated the good and bad sides of relationships — sometimes comfortable and full of happiness, sometimes simply hard work to keep going, healing the little wounds one caused by negligence and misunderstandings.

"Are you ready?" someone asked behind him, and he saw the Vulcan in the mirror, wearing jeans and a dark-green winter jacket. 

"I am," Max said and donned his coat. 

They left the house through the main door.

*

McCoy looked up as Kirk entered the kitchen. Wordlessly, Kirk opened the lock that connected the chain to the necklace, then closed his arms around McCoy and took him into a tight embrace.

"I'm so sorry, Bones," he murmured, slightly shaken.

"It's okay, Jim," McCoy said muffled.

Kirk pulled back and took the barstool next to McCoy, moving as close as possible to him. "No, it's not," he said quietly and put his arm around McCoy's shoulder. "It wasn't okay."

"Alright, it wasn't. But what did Max tell you?" McCoy asked. 

"He gave me a well-earned lecture about being pushy and an ignorant bastard."

McCoy shook his head and smiled. "A clever guy, your friend."

"I'm sorry," Kirk said once more. "I havn't been a very considerate partner lately, have I?"

"We're all not at our very best at the moment," McCoy said. 

"Funny, that's almost what Spock said." 

McCoy nodded. "Guess we really should sit down for a lengthy talk." Then he met Kirk's gaze squarely. "Don't do that again, Jim. Ever."

"I won't."

"I'm your lover, not your plaything. And if I agree to be your plaything, it's for a limited amount of time and in a specific situation."

"Yes, Bones."

"I can take a lot from you, and there are moments I'd like to haul you to the ground and put you in chains to keep you from risking your neck. But I don't, because it's your decision to make, even if it's stupid. And if one day I can't take that anymore, I'll give you a fair warning before I leave."

Kirk swallowed hard. "I hope that day will never come."

"Not if I can help it," McCoy said more gently. He leaned in for a kiss, and Kirk met him halfway. It was sweet, not erotic; it was for sealing a promise, nothing else. And that was a lot. 

They stayed close for a moment, then McCoy stretched his back. "I think I'm going to take a shower." 

"Good idea," Kirk said. "Shall I come with you?"

"No, I want to keep it short and to the point." McCoy grinned. After a last squeeze of Kirk's shoulder, he walked away.

Kirk looked at the table and pulled the untouched plate in front of him. Maybe McCoy wanted to starve to death, but he wouldn't; determinedly he took a knife and cut the roll, generously putting cheese and vegetarian ham on the halves. He took a hearty bite and chewed it, then stole a gulp from McCoy's coffee. 

*

They walked side by side, Spock and Max. There was silence between them, and at first it made Max slightly nervous. He'd learned to hate silent moments like this one, the harbingers of bad news — _your mother isn't well, Max_ — or heralds of goodbye — _I really love you, Max, but I can't live with you._

He was almost expecting something like that from Spock now. _I accepted Jim's wish for being with you, Mister Fenton, but it is not something I could live with._ There wouldn't be a question of who would back down and leave; Max had been ready to do that from the first moment on. But it would make the parting with Jim one of the unhappier moments of his life. There was a big difference between meeting rarely and not being allowed to meet at all. 

He glanced at Spock, waiting for him to start talking, but the Vulcan seemed totally at peace with himself and walked straight along the path to the nearby hill with the little forest on top. Max remained at his side, adapting the length of his steps to the Vulcan's stride. It had something meditative, this way of walking. His breathing a regular in and out, Max decided to give up any thoughts about the Vulcan's motives. He'd learn about them in due time, or not at all. It wasn't his job to ask questions here. 

The path made a slight curve and he could see the house prominently in the plane at the foot of the hills. His former little palace. His stride faltered. For a moment his heart ached on the realization that it had gone out of his hands — but there was the right time for everything, and he'd owned it for twelve years. In the end, it didn't fit his life anymore. But it was still a beautiful white jewel in a sea of green.

He took up speed, aligning his shoulder with Spock's again. They were soon on top of the hill, where it was cool in the shadows under the trees. There was a light breeze in the branches, making them creak and whistle. 

Suddenly, the Vulcan sat down on one of the fallen trees, oblivious to the rotting material that might spoil his clothes.

"Please, join me," Spock said. Carefully, Max checked the spot right of him before sitting down. He might be vain, but he really would hate to see his light blue jeans get dirty.

"Most humans are men of many words and little content," Spock said unexpectedly. "Silence is a threat to them. For a Vulcan, silence is the time for preparation and clearing one's thoughts." He folded his hands. "I am not pretending that your appearance here was welcome by me at first. When facing this new situation, I had to realize that my emotional control might not be as stable as I had thought. I had not quite the peace of mind that I strove for." 

Max nodded wordlessly.

"Until yesterday evening, I could still pretend nothing would happen. Seeing it on screen annulled this wishful thinking. And that was good." Spock straightened his back. "I found that seeing the reality between the two of you was not damaging to the reality of what we have. Which was an illogical fear, but one I could not easily dismiss. It was relief to find it had no base in reality." 

There was a longer break, and Max looked up from the slightly muddy ground to find Spock's gaze resting on him. Obviously, he was expected to answer something.

"It was never a question of you or me," Max said. "It was always clear that Jim and I weren't cut out for a relationship, and I guess he told you as much. But I know that doesn't necessarily make things easier for you. I'm glad that you allowed me to come, and grateful that I could spend time with Jim. Len already asked me if he's important to me, and yes, he is. But he's not my partner, or the man I would want to spend the rest of my life with. That's your role."

It was Spock's turn to nod. There was a moment of silence again.

"There is something left I want to ask of you," Spock then said.

"Yes?"

"I want to meld with you; a superficial meld, nothing too personal."

Max frowned. "Why?"

"See it as a final proof I need."

"Of what?"

"Your integrity."

"You still don't trust me?"

"This is not about trust. It is more similar to you looking up our Starfleet files four days ago."

Max's eyes locked with Spock's. "How did you know…?"

"I always keep an eye on this information. You were hard to track back, but not impossible. Currently you are at advantage over us. And while I trust your words, to experience you on another level would be a requirement for any future meetings with you."

Max laughed quietly. "So after all our talks, you're putting a gun on my head? This is worse than McCoy's tricorder check."

"Please understand our need to protect Jim and each other. You are working outside of Starfleet and usually off-world. It is possible that you are not entirely the man you claim to be. Unlikely, but not impossible."

Max rubbed over his eyebrows. "Well. I let McCoy do the checkup. Why not a meld?" He smiled crookedly. "And you promise me that you're not going to look up my darker secrets?" Without waiting for an answer, he turned around to face the Vulcan fully. "I've never experienced a mind meld," he said. "Anything I should know?"

Spock changed position. "Just relax."

"That's easy for you to say," Max said and closed his eyes. This stay was full of surprises, not all of them nice, and only his natural curiosity kept him from leaving right now. 

The Vulcan's touch was rather soft at first, then increased in pressure. It wasn't unpleasant, and when the first mental waves came in, Max was ready to accept them. 

*

When he opened his eyes again, he blinked against the bright light which was so different to what he'd experienced in the meld. There was a hand around his shoulder, steadying him. 

"Max?" Spock asked.

"Is it normal to feel so dizzy afterwards?" Max felt slightly sick, as if having drunken the wrong booze.

"Only the first time," Spock said. "Humans need to get used to the process."

"Yeah, seems like." Max took a deep breath. "But it was really…interesting. Is it something you do with a lot of people?"

"More than the average Vulcan."

"Do you use it as a weapon too?" Max asked curiously.

"I have been known to use it for influencing enemies." Spock stretched his fingers as if regaining their flexibility.

Max tried to smile, although it was hard on him. "I wouldn't want to be your enemy. Or Jim's. Not even Len's — he got a hypo."

"That is a sensible decision," Spock said.

"So — are you satisfied now?" Max asked when they went up to walk back. His body felt chilly, and he was looking forward to a hot bath. 

"I am." Spock took Max's right hand between both his palms. 

"Spock –?" 

There was sudden warmth in Max's hand, and it slowly spread through his body. It left him feeling less cold; it also relaxed him. He had passed the test, whatever had been in it, and was still alive and without a broken neck. He was also seeing Vulcans with new eyes. Maybe he should give the young man that had contacted him recently a try…he hadn't been keen on meeting Vulcans before, but this might change now.

"Thank you," he said when Spock released his hand again. The tension from the pressured meld was gone, and he was ready to go back. They fell into step side by side again, keeping a new kind of silence until they reached the house.

 

*

They were greeted by a very unusual show — Kirk and McCoy trying to fly with the pair of anti-grav boots Spock had brought with him on vacation again. Kirk wore the boots, while McCoy tried to hold onto him. They both grinned like Chesterhire cats.

When Kirk saw the two men approaching, he steered into their direction about two meters above the ground. They landed in front of them, and McCoy tumbled from the rather slippery boots right into Spock's arm. He laughed and hugged the Vulcan.

"We thought we'd give it another try," Kirk said as he stepped out of the boots and into normal shoes. "Wouldn't want to fall again in the future."

"For this, we would have to reduce our total weight," Spock said, safely delivering McCoy into a stable position. "Which might be impossible." He aimed an almost invisible smile at Kirk. "It appears you solved your communication errors," he added, changing the subject. 

"Yes," McCoy agreed. "Just as well as in the other thirty-odd years. There's something to be said about knowing someone half of your life."

The Vulcan nodded. "I am relieved to hear this."

They walked toward the house, and Kirk went to Max' side. "Did you have a nice walk with Spock?" 

"Well, it was okay for me," Max replied. "Not sure what your Mister Spock thinks, though."

"Oh, he's used to illogical humans," McCoy chimed in from behind. 

The kitchen was cozily warm compared to the outside, where the sun had vanished again, dispelled by dark clouds that spoke of impeding rain. Kirk offered to make another round of coffee for all of them, and ushered his friends into the living room.

Spock soon joined him in the kitchen again, while in the living room, they could hear the lively voices of Max and McCoy.

"Jim –" Spock said as they stood side by side to take the cups. 

"Yes, Spock?" Kirk looked up at him. 

"As you know, I was very unsure when you invited your friend here. It was…emotionally challenging. However, now that I know him I must recommend you on your good choice. He is a man of great integrity, and someone I would feel comfortable having in our closer circle of friends."

"Woah, Spock." Kirk was slightly speechlessly. "You've never said something like that about any other of my friends." 

"Maybe I didn't get to know them as well as Max, but he has a fascinating personality, and is very careful and thoughtful in his actions."

Kirk nodded. "You know — I was pretty sure that you'd both like him, but there was a part of me that worried what would happen if not. My reputation was at stake, somehow. But Max is a really great guy and good buddy, and I'm damn glad that you get along with him."

Spock smiled, that very Vulcan smile with just a quirk of the lips' edge. "Let us take the cups inside," he then said and took two, leaving the others for Kirk.

They walked into the room that was once more filled with laughter, and sat down on the large couch together. McCoy was deep in the other one, holding his chest, while Max had once again taken the single armchair.

"Your friend's cracking me up with his stories, Jim," McCoy said with tears in his eyes. "Did you attend all those parties he keeps talking about?"

"Lord, no — or I'd have never made it into space," Kirk answered and reached the cups around. "A few of them, and usually not the ones where the fun stuff happened. Or maybe it's just the way he tells them."

"I think so," Max admitted as he rose to take his coffee. "I have a tendency to expand the funny parts and drop the dorky parts. Or make them funny too."

"Doesn't matter — they're great," McCoy said. "I'm not sure I'd ever want to participate in any of them, but the stories are incredible."

"You'd probably have to wear long black chaps," Kirk said. "They'd look good at you." He looked into the round with a smile. "Actually, chaps would look good on all of you except for me."

"Don't sell yourself short, Jim — you still have a rather sexy ass." Max twinkled. 

"Agreed," Spock said and put his free hand on Kirk's thigh in a clearly possessive gesture. 

"Vulcans…" Kirk said amused, but leaned closer.

"I admit that Spock is the first one I have gotten along with," Max said. "The other ones were extremely stiff and reserved."

"Oh, you get a special treatment," McCoy said, pointing to his lovers with the cup. "Don't you think you'd normally seem him as relaxed as here. In SanFran, he'd rather have his hand cut off than touch Jim like that."

"Oh, come on, Bones, it's not as if you'd pat my ass at a Starfleet reception," Kirk said.

"You're not really 'out', are you?" Max asked curiously.

"Few know, some suspect — but no, we're not really open about it." Kirk shrugged. "It's in the protected area of the medical files and our last wills that the other two have to be informed, but that doesn't give us any official status."

"I didn't even tell my daughter," McCoy said with a small sigh. "I don't think she'd understand it. Besides, kids don't want to know anything about the sexuality of their parents."

"She might surprise you," Max said, but McCoy shook his head. "I once alluded to something concerning Jim, and she clearly didn't like the idea. She's not homophobic, but it's something she would read about without ever connecting it to her family. For her, I'm just straight like everyone else by default."

"But you are, Bones," Kirk said, smiling.

"I was, but you spoiled me. Today, I do notice men's asses," McCoy said with a pointed look at Max.

"Tsk." Kirk pouted. "Isn't mine enough for you?" 

"Can't stare at yours all day, can I?" McCoy said with a twinkle and raised his cup of coffee to take a gulp.

"Well, I'm not going to say anything about a certain Vulcan's ass, because he wouldn't like it," Kirk said with another big smile. "But it's sure worth being looked at, too."

It made Spock raise a brow. It also made him shift their position; putting one arm around Kirk's shoulder, it left Spock's other hand free to rest on Kirk's thigh again. Kirk felt the heat rising up, and his legs spread slightly, almost on their own. He began wondering what Spock was up to — it was definitely not something he'd ever done in the company of anyone but McCoy. It seemed that Max was going up the ranks in light-speed. Catching McCoy's gaze, he could see that Bones harbored the same suspicion. 

Not that it was a bad one.

Kirk held his breath as Spock's hand slipped further and over his crotch. His gaze darted down, then up to Spock's face. "You're sure of what you're doing?" he whispered. 

"Yes." The Vulcan's fingers moved up and took hold of the shaking cup in Kirk's fingers, taking it away to put it on the table. Out of the edge of his eye, Kirk could see the other two men watching from the side with excited smiles. It turned him on to no end, and he could feel his jeans stretching over his growing erection. 

Spock placed his hand down again and slowly opened the fly. Spreading his legs further, Kirk sank deeper into the cushions and against Spock. The Vulcan's other hand slipped under the neck of his sweater and stroked his skin, almost reaching the left nipple. 

Kirk's breathing accelerated, and a shiver ran over his body. Spock was touching him right in the middle of the living-room, right in front of Max…it was something he might have dreamt about in a fantasy, but to feel it coming alive was almost more than he could handle. Between his legs, his fly was open and his already stiff member was poking against black shorts. Spock's fingers quickly removed the fabric, then stroked the organ. As his thumb glided over Kirk's glans, he moaned deeply. His eyes dropped closed and his head sank back. Spock proceeded with his caresses, and for a while, there seemed to be no other sound in the room. It was when Spock stopped for a moment to remove some more of the material that impeded his actions that Kirk opened his eyes to see what the others were doing. 

He couldn't believe them at first; Max was sitting next to Bones and very obviously seducing him. Their heads were forehead to forehead, and Max's hand lay on McCoy's neck, putting only the lightest, encouraging touch against it. McCoy turned his head for a moment, his eyes seeking contact with his lovers. Kirk caught the gaze and nodded; he didn't see what Spock did, but McCoy turned back after a second…and then they kissed, Max and Bones, and it was incredibly sexy to watch. Kirk sucked in a deep breath. Spock's fingers clamped around the base of his dick, and that was good; he was so horny by now, he might well come just by watching what was going on on the other couch. 

But Spock didn't want him to be only a voyeur; the Vulcan's fingers touched his chin and pulled his face around into a kiss too. Spock's tongue was long and non-humanly flexible, and it sneaked into his mouth and between his teeth, forcing them open. It moved; it searched; it went out and in again in an imitation of fucking. He groaned against it, his own tongue cornered, forced to give way to the sensuous intrusion. Never had Spock felt as sexually assertive as tonight, and Kirk was more than ready to give in to it. Not wanting to be too passive, he tried to move his right hand and touch Spock, but it was quickly captured and guided back to where it had lain before. Then Spock's hand moved to the erection again. It closed around it with considerable force, on the edge of pain, but Kirk was too far along the road to complain. He loved to feel the strength that Spock usually held back and under control. If tonight the dam breached a little more than usual, it was welcome. 

Unable to muster his curiosity, he nevertheless managed to have another look at the other couple. Max was on his knees between McCoy's legs by now, and even though Kirk could only see the back of his head and a bit of a tense cheek, it was clear what his old friend was doing. Another heat wave rushed through Kirk. He could remember the first time Max had gone down on him like this. And he could just as well remember the first time McCoy had allowed Kirk to suck him off, the first man ever to be allowed there. To see these two special men of his life together was more than Kirk could bear. With a deep groan, he was about to come when Spock's grip tightened and stopped the orgasm at the very last moment. He coiled, from the frustration and the feeling that his balls were tying a knot, a deep ache shooting through his groin. 

"Spock, dammit –"

"Come with me," Spock said quietly and helped him up. They moved to the bedroom and stripped as fast as they could. Then Spock pulled him onto the bed, crouching over his sprawled body. Balancing on his knees and one hand, he lifted the right one and touched Kirk's temple. The bond opened, but not quite in the way it usually did; instead of merging their thoughts, Kirk felt Spock's mind taking over a bit more than expected. It left him somehow limp and experiencing his body as if through a transparent wall, when Spock broke the physical contact.

There was air on his skin, Spock's breath as the Vulcan licked down his body. It was the salt in the sweat that turned him on, Kirk knew. But this time, there was something else in the mix. Control. Controlling him. 

Kirk tried to move, but it didn't work. Spock felt him trying, and raised his head. "Tonight, you are mine," he stated in a low voice, trailing with his forefinger a line down Kirk's chest. "My beautiful one…"

Spock arranged Kirk's arms as if he were a rag doll, putting them to the left and right. Then he began caressing him all over, kissing and touching in a way that made Kirk burst into flames — but all inside, without a chance to interact or even moan. It was one of the best and worst tortures he'd ever experienced. He wanted to arch, to hold Spock, to stop him from going down there, exactly there, to put those teasing kisses on him, but he couldn't move a single muscle. There were fingers inside of him and out again; there was his erection stroked and rubbed and ignored again. Then he was turned and lifted to his knees and, realizing how completely unable he was to resist the intrusion, Kirk allowed himself to dive into some deep, rather non-consensual fantasies. He was harshly rocked against the cushions under his chest and groin, fucked and spread and taken with force, handled in any way his captor wanted to have him. He was about to explode, second after second, without ever reaching the threshold. Like an invisible line in his brain, it was on the other, forbidden side of arousal. He pleaded in his mind, sure that Spock would listen, but for once the Vulcan didn't let him get away that easily. Spock was taking his pleasure in him, and finally moved him back on his back for a face to face position. There, he fucked Kirk with the human's leg spread far apart until he came in an almost violent orgasm — without his victim being allowed the same. All Kirk was able to do was watch how the tension culminated in the Vulcan's features for a moment, before it dissolved into the calm relaxation of the aftermath.

Kirk would have whimpered — if he could. He felt the organ slipping out of his body, and knew that he'd lose his mind if Spock had kept him on the brink for even a second longer. His whole body was one pool of pulsing arousal; there was no difference anymore between his dick and his arms, his chest, his head…it was all one, craving to be granted the final release. There was a hand on his erection, and it seemed as if that single touch was enough, now that the block seemed to have gone — his groin found a life in itself and burst into a thousand pieces, pulling the rest of the body with it. He arched up, feeling electric charges running through his limbs, allowing them to move again. His semen spurted out, more and more, and shots hit his chest and one even his face, and he still coiled and grunted, thrown around by the force of his climax. In the end he sagged into the mattress, unable to move again — by sheer exhaustion this time.

"Spock?" he whispered weakly, trying to reach out for him. Their fingers laced, and Spock placed a kiss on one round eyebrow as he drew closer, leaning one knee over Kirk's legs. 

"That was incredible," Kirk murmured. "You've never done anything like that. Where did you learn that?"

When no answer was forthcoming, he forced his eyes open. "Sybok?" he asked. 

Spock nodded. "It is not something a…normal Vulcan would ever speak of, much less use on anyone. But I learned some techniques from Sybok and I thought that maybe, within our relationship, there is a place for…more emotional moments."

Kirk managed a little laugh. "I won't complain." He clutched Spock's hand harder. "But is it okay for you, Spock?" he asked more seriously. "I know that it's not something you felt at ease with in the past."

Spock rubbed their joined fingers. "I…it is hard to say at the moment. So far, there are no major repercussions. But I will monitor the long-time effects on my control."

Kirk nodded and closed his eyes again. "Is it…did it have any similarity to what you and Bones experience when you're diving into your special meld?"

"No," Spock replied. "With you, I was in full control of the situation. In the other meld, it is more like being subjected to an inner hurricane. The intensity of what you experienced was somewhat similar to ours, but in our case, it has more of a…violent, needier component."

"I see. Sorry for asking." 

"You're welcome, Jim. Always. With both of us. And you know that."

"Yeah, I know. And it keeps being a miracle." Kirk took a deep breath and opened his eyes fully. "I need to get up and find something to drink," he said. "And maybe something to eat. I'm starving."

"I will meditate for a moment," Spock said. "But let me clean you first," he added and fetched a towel, meticulously removing the stains and the sweat from Kirk's body. It was another act of caring that made Kirk swallow down the suggestion that he could simply take a shower. Later, maybe.

They lay closely entangled for another long moment, enjoying the nearness in each other's arms. Then Kirk took his bathrobe and quietly left the room, giving Spock the break the Vulcan visibly needed right now. He rubbed his eyes and yawned, but then his decades of command training kicked in and he straightened his back, ready to stay awake for some more hours. 

When he went into the living room, he found that the other two were still engaged in love-making, fully undressed by now. McCoy lay on his back on the couch, his folded legs spread and a cushion under his hips, and Max was penetrating him. They barely moved, and Kirk smiled. amused. They were both of the kind to hold back endlessly if they wanted to, and it seemed to add up. Or maybe they were already on the second round. 

He quietly got himself something to drink in the kitchen, then returned to the living-room. He managed to make eye-contact with Max. His friend gave him an encouraging wink, inviting him to participate. Kirk drew closer and sank to his knees on the warm floor next to McCoy. 

"Hello, my love," he said and kissed McCoy. McCoy hazily answered it and opened his eyes. 

"Jim," McCoy murmured as he recognized the newcomer. "Everything alright?" 

"Yes, commander. Carry on." Kirk grinned. 

Max leaned back with his hands around McCoy's legs, leaving some more room for McCoy's erection that pointed to the ceiling. "If you want to…"

"Sure." Kirk closed his hand around the hard member and began rubbing up and down. It caused McCoy to arch against him with a heartfelt moan. Max took up some speed, pushing deeper with every stroke. Their breathing got harder, and Kirk couldn't help getting aroused again — more in his mind than body, but this was just too hot. What a pity that Spock wasn't here to enjoy the scene. 

Feeling that McCoy was close to coming, Kirk leaned over and sucked in the quivering organ. It wasn't the optimal angle, but it was good enough to have the desired effect. McCoy's hand descended on the back of his head, half stroking, half wanting to hold him down. He deep-throated and let the base of his tongue play with the glans, his lips tightly around the shaft. McCoy groaned, and Kirk felt the erection retracting a little as if taking a run — then he pulled back and it exploded with the movement. He closed his lips around the glans and captured the fluid. When there was nothing delivered anymore, he sucked McCoy dry until the hand in his hair pulled, telling him it was enough. He lifted his head from the spent organ and looked at his lover. 

"Satisfied?" he asked, although McCoy's beaming face told him the answer.

"Totally," McCoy whispered. 

Kirk then looked at Max. His friend had sagged back on his heels and slipped out of McCoy, a similar satiated grin on his face. Kirk rose and, closing one hand around Max's neck, kissed him. He laughed.

"Seems we taste the same." 

"Yeah," Max said hazily. He tilted back and sank into the couch, helping McCoy to stretch out his legs. McCoy collected himself and, with a little help from Kirk, managed to sit up and lean over to Max for a deep, long kiss. 

Kirk sighed deeply. "It's too much," he said serenely. The men instantly broke the kiss and looked at him in alert.

"You're too hot to watch. I'm getting all horny again. Could you please stop — right — now?"

McCoy smiled, relaxing in the embrace of his unexpected new lover. "Well, I'm sure that Spock's willing to do some more about it," he said and moved his chin into the direction of the door. Kirk turned his head, only now realizing that Spock was standing in it.

"Spock!" he said and went up from the floor. The Vulcan leaned against the door frame, arms folded over the bathrobe. 

"Did you watch the show?" Kirk asked.

"Most of it," Spock replied. He walked into the room and took place on the large couch again. The bathrobe slightly opened to reveal a half-stiff penis, before Spock pulled the fabric close. Kirk went over and kissed him, knowing that the taste would travel. 

"Did you enjoy it?" he whispered. Spock raised a brow and opened his mouth to answer, but Kirk pressed yet another deep kiss on it to silence his mate. Then he went to his knees again, now in front of Spock, and let his hands slip under the robe. He looked at Spock, a question and a challenge in his eyes. He could see the Vulcan's shoulder tense, the breathing change; but there was no stop signal, and Kirk pushed the fabric up and over the legs, left and right, to uncover the beautiful, slightly curved penis. He gave Spock yet another look, then bent his head down and took it in his mouth as far as he could. 

It was a position in which he couldn't see a thing, but he didn't need to. He knew every muscle in Spock's legs and lower body, the way they moved and shivered when Kirk pressed the right buttons. He generously used his hands, one to massage the balls, the other one tightly closed around the base. His tongue massaged the double ridges, the only real difference from humans; it was the most erotic point and rapidly caused the muscles to tighten. He didn't expect Spock to moan as he sometimes did; it was miracle enough that the extremely non-exhibitionistic Vulcan allowed him this stimulation at all. Kirk gave his best, and that was a lot; but after a while, there seemed to be a kind of plateau. Finally, Kirk looked up. 

"Spock?"

"It is very arousing. But I cannot…" Spock's voice was low, barely a breath.

"Nothing to apologize for," Kirk said and bent down for a last kiss on the organ. Then he closed the robe over it. "Shall we go somewhere else?"

"Not now." 

Kirk got up and slipped into the space at Spock's side on the couch. They touched each other's faces for a moment, then kissed.

"I would prefer to taper off the evening," Spock said. 

"Water? Juice? Wine?" Kirk asked.

"And brandy," McCoy's voice chimed in. Kirk looked at the two men on the other side of the table; they still sat close to each other, with McCoy's hand rather low between Max's legs. They seemed to have spent the time of his show with a little action of their own. But now McCoy got up too and picked up his t-shirt and shorts from the floor. 

"It's getting a bit cool," he explained when he saw Kirk's gaze. He donned them, then said, "Let's go and get the drinks." They walked into the kitchen together, washing their hands and faces before doing anything else. 

"That was damn hot," Kirk said when McCoy got the glasses out of the cabinet and put them on a tray. He put his hand on McCoy's shoulder. "Bones…"

McCoy turned to him, still with the relaxed smile on his face which smoothed the creases and dispelled the tiredness he'd shown over the last weeks. Kirk leaned into a kiss, and this time it was encountered with equal strength. McCoy's hand slipped behind his neck, stroking Kirk's head just above the hairline.

"Damn," McCoy murmured. "I think someone put Spanish fly in the coffee."

"You mean, because of this?" Kirk's fingers found McCoy's erection behind the thin material. 

"If you don't stop that, we'll never get back." With a sigh, McCoy turned out of the reach of Kirk's hand. 

"They wouldn't wonder where we were," Kirk said, but went to the fridge and got white wine. The water went out of the pipe into a glass jar, and the juice sat on the floor in the kitchen corner, cool but not cold. With his arms full, he went back into the living-room, his barely wilted organ teetering with every step. It made him feel strangely naked when he met Spock's gaze.

On the other couch, Max sat also dressed in underwear and a t-shirt now, taking the tray of glasses from McCoy. 

Kirk placed the bottles on the table. "I'll get dressed," he said and vanished to fetch his bathrobe. The bedroom felt rather cool and empty — strange to think that Spock and he had had one of their hottest moments ever maybe about one hour ago. From there, Kirk went to the bathroom. The shower looked inviting; a few minutes under the hot spray would be nice. 

Or maybe he should instead have a cold shower, he thought when he stepped into the stall and looked down at his dick. There was the theory that libido decreased with age; obviously it didn't apply to him. He wanted to have more sex so badly that it hurt, and it could've been all of the men outside — Spock, McCoy, Max, they all made his boat float, each by different means and for different reasons. He put one hand on the wall, leaned forward a little and stroked himself with the other. He didn't want to go back to them as horny as he was, unable to control himself like a teenager. It was fun while it lasted, but now the party was over and his alter ego should realize that. 

He barely heard the bathroom door open — but then the shower stall door opened too and Max put his head inside. Kirk let his hand drop from his erection, but didn't really disguise what he had been doing. 

"They sent me to look after you," Max said with a grin.

"They?"

"Yes." Without ado, Max dropped his few clothes and got into the spacious shower stall. A regular fucking place, Kirk thought. 

"So — how do you want it, Jim?"

Kirk looked at him for a second. It wouldn't be like with Spock tonight, but there was too much of a good thing — this time would be simply sex. Good sex. Fast sex. Decisively he pulled Max into a kiss, then grabbed his hair and dragged him to his knees with just enough force to show what he wanted. Max gave in, an expectant smile on his face as he looked up. 

"Suck me," Kirk said and spread his legs. There was nothing like oral foreplay before one delved into other fun.

* 

"My knees hurt," Max said when they left the bathroom half an hour later, and rubbed them. "You should buy a Flokati rug for the bathroom." 

"I'll put it on the list," Kirk said with a smile, closing his bathrobe on their way. 

When they passed the bedroom door, Max was surprised to see it closed. Kirk gave it a short glance.

"Do you think they're in there?" Max asked.

"Yes." Kirk looked at him. "Oh, it's nothing serious," he added when he saw a light frown on Max' face. He suspended further explanation until they were back in the living room and sat down on the large couch together. Kirk took a brandy, while Max settled with white wine. 

"You know about the fal-tor-pan, the refusion they underwent?" Kirk asked.

"What the news and the fleet bulletins covered."

"They've had a mental connection ever since. They'd been somewhat attracted to each other for a long time, but it was only after the fal-tor-pan that it evolved to something more, between them and between us all. However, when the two of them are together, really together without holding back, it's something special; like they're driven, totally diving into each other. It's something they don't feel very comfortable sharing, not even with me."

Max looked at Kirk with renewed admiration. "Really, Jim, I don't know how the three of you manage this balance, but it's close to a miracle. I've gotten to know my share of poly couples, but you tackle it better than most — despite all your history."

"Actually, it feels easy and uncomplicated to us," Kirk replied, sipping at his brandy. "We slipped into it before giving it too much thought. And once we realized it, we were too aware of what we wanted and needed to let concern about what 'normal people' would do stop us."

"Definitely the right decision." Max raised his glass. "Thanks for your invitation, Jim. It's quite a vacation."

"I'm glad you came. More than once," Kirk added with a twinkle. They clinked glasses.

"Really, Max — it was good that you showed up. Our last mission wasn't our best one ever, and we circled around our issues without laying them out in the open. We haven't yet talked it all out, but…"

"…sometimes there's nothing better than a good fuck to relax," Max finished the sentence with a grin.

"Exactly." 

Max stretched his arms and yawned heartily. "I'm damn tired. Guess I should retire — I really need to leave tomorrow morning."

"I'll wait for them here," Kirk said. They hugged and shared a brief kiss; then Max left for bed.

*

"Hey, Jim. Wake up." Someone shook Kirk's shoulder, and he opened his eyes with effort. "Come to bed, Jim," McCoy said and helped him up.

"Uh." Kirk rubbed his face as he tumbled along the corridor. "How late is it?" 

"Half past four. We fell asleep — didn't want to shut you out," McCoy said apologizing.

"No problem. Hope you had a good time — we sure did." Kirk yawned deeply.

"Yes, fine," McCoy agreed. 

They walked into the bedroom that was barely illuminated by one little bedside lamp. Spock greeted them with a nod, just finishing changing the sheets. Kirk struggled out of the bathrobe and slipped under the fresh, cool blanket. He felt his lovers move to his sides, putting him in the middle. There were arms and legs around him, touching him; a soft kiss on his forehead, a hand stroking his face, and with the feeling of being loved completely, he sank into dreams with a smile on his lips. 

*

Max stood in the kitchen, gazing outside at the flitter. It was barely day, the sun just breaking through the clouds with its first rays. He was so used to five hours of sleep that his habits didn't change during his short vacations. It was fine; it left him more time for everything else. 

He took a sip of his coffee. It had been a good choice to sell the house to Jim — Max loved it and would've hated to see it go to an owner that wouldn't enjoy what it could offer. It was a place for lovers, and from all that Max had seen now, the three men appreciated it. With a little sigh, he rubbed his groin. The memories of the evening were still alive in his mind and had given him a raging hard-on this morning, which he'd taken care of himself. If they invited him again in the future, they might have more of these evenings, but Max didn't count on it. Sometimes, there were moments in time that had just the right combination of people, possibilities, inclination and audacity, but only once. It might be irreproducible — besides the fact that the three men led a rather risky life in comparison to Max's settled existence, and there was no guarantee that they wouldn't get killed doing their duty…again, in Spock's case.

Max's gaze shifted to the hills, looking into the distance. No, he still didn't envy Jim. He didn't feel like settling down and trying to maintain a sex life while the outer world, the job and the closet put pressure on him. He couldn't imagine having partners and not telling the world about them; he'd been upfront about his homosexuality right from the start, and he always presented his partners as it was their right, not under the guise of simply being friends. Sometimes, straight people criticized his attitude, telling him that he was shoving his sexuality into their faces. But that only showed how blind they were in a still hetero-normative world, where they shoved their straightness down his throat every other second. He'd moved to Pluto because there was a bigger community of the kind of people he preferred; open, experimental and kinky — and mostly gay. On Earth, it was never as easy.

Well, maybe he was building his own kind of closet, but at least it was bigger than the one Jim had. 

He gulped the coffee down before it could turn cold. When he poured a second one, McCoy came into the kitchen, dressed in jeans, sneakers and a warm sweater. 

"Good morning," Max said. "Do you want some coffee?" 

"Sure," McCoy smiled. "Good morning to you too." 

When Max gave him the cup, their fingers touched, which deepened McCoy's smile but also caused a little blush to creep up. They took places at the table, on the same stools as the day before. But it was quite another situation.

"So…what's the rule for people in the morning after a night of great sex?" McCoy asked. 

"That's a question?" Max asked back, amused.

McCoy stirred the milk with a spoon, scratching along the cup's sides. "Hmmm — yes. I haven't ever been with a man besides Jim and Spock, and our first time was quite a while after we realized that we were in love. So you were my first…" He visibly searched for an expression.

"…casual partner?" Max offered.

McCoy frowned. "Casual sounds cheap and dirty — I don't like that word. No, I meant something more along the line of first real 'gay' encounter."

"And did you like it?"

The blush deepened, but McCoy held his gaze. "Yes. Though I'm wondering…"

"What?"

"Well, considering your looks and reputation, I don't think I'm your usual choice of guy."

"True. If we were to meet at a party, I'd probably not take a second look at you. At least not unless we had met at the bar by chance, and I'd exchanged more than a few words with you." Max smiled wryly. "I'm not as shallow as I might seem to be. I was ready to spend the evening with or without sex — but you're an interesting man, and that's an attractive quality in my eyes." He sipped his coffee, giving McCoy a moment to digest that before adding, "And I knew you were almost a virgin with men, and I love that kind of challenge. I wanted to make you feel good about who you are, and enjoy the new choices you're given. I sometimes had the impression here that while you both were giving Jim a very long line on which he could pull you around, your forgot about your own options. Sexually, I mean." 

McCoy rubbed his fingers in thoughts. "I'm not sure. It's just that it isn't as important for us as it is for Jim, and we know that. But I can't imagine going out and seeing another man. It just wouldn't be right."

"You don't have to. But you were right yesterday — you've changed, and you're not really a straight guy anymore. The gay scene offers some information and resources that aren't easily gotten hold of by heteros. Maybe you should give it a try."

McCoy slowly nodded. "Maybe I'll do that." He shifted the handle of the coffee cup around in his fingers without lifting it. "You think we should come out of the closet, right?"

"Yes." 

"I don't think that would be a good idea," McCoy said, shaking his head. "There's our fleet status and fraternization stuff; there's Spock's family that's still hoping for a marriage; and there's my family that doesn't know a thing. And a threesome — how would we even make that official? Even in the Federation, two-person-couples are the standard. It's not as if we never talk about it."

"I know — there are always lots of good reasons. But as long as people like you don't step out of the closet, things won't change for the better."

McCoy warily looked at him. "Do you feel repressed?"

"Not a lot," Max said. "Probably not more than Spock feels as Vulcan among humans, if he allows himself to admit it. But there were the jobs I didn't get, people who called after me in the streets, little insults and stings. The human race has always had and always will have a certain homophobic tendency. It takes a lot of work to make this world a friendlier place for queer people, and the work never ends. First, freedom must be gained — but it's even harder work to defend it over time. And with every new planet in the Federation, the work starts again."

"Right." McCoy scratched his chin. "So — I still don't know what the right way of saying good morning would have been."

"What would you have done with a woman?"

"Lord, that's long forgotten in the realms of past lives," McCoy said with a small laugh. "But I'd probably have kissed her."

"Well, that's always a good choice." Max twinkled. 

Lacing his feet in the stool's legs, McCoy rose from the seat and bent over the slim bar table. "Good morning, Max," he said, and kissed him. Then he sank back. "Next time, I'll make it better," he said. "Whenever 'next time' will be."

Max nodded. "I won't be coming back to Earth anytime soon," he said. "A private trip to Pluto is rather expensive."

"I know. I'm glad we have a starship at hand."

There were sounds in the house, and soon the other two walked into the kitchen, neatly clothed and with the smell of shower gel in their wake. 

"Good morning, everyone." Kirk first kissed McCoy, then walked around the table and kissed Max. Then he went right on to the coffee and helped himself.

"I see how it's done," McCoy said with a grin. He clasped hands with Spock for a second, slightly leaning back against the Vulcan's chest. 

"What?" Kirk asked. "Spock, do you want one too?"

The Vulcan nodded and took the place to the left of McCoy. Kirk placed a bottle of milk on the table and sat on at round top edge, between McCoy and Max. He stretched his back with a little frown. "Must've twisted my bones last night," he said. "The couch isn't a really good place to sleep on."

"I got news for you, Jim — I didn't buy it for actually sleeping on it," Max said amused. 

"I thought as much. At least it didn't unfold in the middle of the fun like the last time we were here," Kirk replied.

"Must've been fun."

McCoy remembered it well and looked at Spock, but the Vulcan seemed to be occupied with the milk in his coffee. A surge of love went through McCoy; he wanted to make Spock feel better about what they had, more relaxed about their weird, wacky kind of deep melds. It was what it was, and they could share it with Jim. It was time to stop their common feeling of shame afterwards. They were only hurting themselves; nobody cared about what they did, nobody judged them, and Jim was accepting of it, no matter if they chose to share it or not. 

Spock looked up, obviously catching his strong emotions. McCoy countered the questioning gaze by offering his fore and middle fingers. Without hesitation, Spock lifted his hand and touched him in the Vulcan way. Even through his human fingertips, which had fewer nerve endings, McCoy could feel the link open with a flare. There was endless love, rarely put into words; there was endless caring, rarely put into action; there was acceptance and agreement that it was time for a new level of closeness between them. And there was an edge of protective possessiveness, which Spock allowed to slip out, telling McCoy that while the Vulcan was willing to share him for a moment, he was claimed and would be fought for if he ever wanted to leave their relationship. 

The contact broke. McCoy took a deep breath and opened his eyes which he hadn't even felt closing. When he turned his head, he found Kirk and Max looking at them intently. Not quite knowing how to hide his emotional overload, he craned his neck uncomfortably. "I'll be right back," he said and started to slip down from the stool as Kirk captured his hand. 

"No need to hide, Bones," Kirk said softly. 

McCoy swallowed hard, fighting a little inner battle before giving in. "Alright." He moved back onto the seat. 

"Breakfast, anyone?" Max asked and left the table for the fridge. It gave McCoy another second to settle. He exchanged a glance with Spock; the Vulcan seemed okay and in control, a lot more at least than he felt himself. He felt like bursting for love; a rather ridiculous feeling that made him want to merge with his lovers right on the spot. He clamped the feeling down, trying to save it for later when they were by themselves again. It was too intimate to share even with Max; it was about the bond, and he felt it extending and contracting with every breath he was taking right now. He was slightly hyperventilating, and only the tight clasp of Kirk's hand around his own managed to anchor him.

Plates were moved, food put on the table; he slowly tried going back to normal but he felt naked, stripped, his defenses worn out and crumbling under the impact of the love he could feel from the other two. 

"I gotta go for a moment, Jim," he whispered. "I'll be right back." With shaking legs, McCoy left the kitchen and went outside into the fresh air. He walked round the house, looking for a spot where they wouldn't be able to see him, the old fool, and his wet eyes. 

But of course they came after him in the blink of an eye.

Kirk took him in a tight embrace, ignoring his shaking. "Told you you weren't allowed to run away," he murmured, stroking his hair. 

There were Spock's arms around them both, and then Spock's fingers on McCoy's and Kirk's temples. They delved into the bond like never before; there were no boundaries, no limits; they fell and merged and it was the most beautiful thing McCoy had ever experienced. They saw everything of each others — they shared everything they'd ever felt. They united, coiling into each other, becoming one single bright spot of love. It didn't burst, it didn't burn them with its intensity; they were one and yet parted, still their own, their unique personalities, having their own lives, dreams, hopes and weaknesses. McCoy could step aside and see them, see everything of them; then he fell into the spot again, distance irrelevant. There was no reason to hide. They were one.

They untangled in a small mental crash, harder than expected, and then McCoy was alone again in his mind — but not really, never really alone, never really parted. They were embracing, arms and bodies laced in the closest possible embrace, and it took a moment before they relearned how to step away from each other, allowing the contact to diminish. 

"I — apologize," Spock croaked. "I will be more careful when dissolving the meld next time."

"No problem," Kirk said. "Bones?"

McCoy couldn't keep his hands off his lovers. "It's alright. It was worth it. It was…incredible. For a moment, I understood everything, about myself, about you. But it's gone now." He stared at Spock. "That was our first real three-way-meld, right?"

Spock nodded. He was slightly shaking, and they moved to a nearby bench with him where they all sank down. "Yes, Leonard." He clamped his fingers in his lap. "I didn't really intend it. It was just…natural."

The humans nodded. 

"Yes, it was time. We needed to be ready for it. Now we are," Kirk said. 

McCoy shivered, not sure if from the deep meld or the cool air. His hands were almost blue and the wind breezed through his thin shirt. "We've got to go back inside, or we'll all catch a cold," he said.

Spock nodded, and they went up together, taking the long way through the main door to give themselves a few more minutes to calm down. When they crossed the corridor, Spock held up his hand. "I badly need to meditate," he said. "Give my regards to Max, Jim. It was a pleasure to meet him, and I hope that we will meet again in the future."

"I'll tell him," Kirk said. He squeezed Spock's shoulder for a second, then watched him walk to the bed room. McCoy followed his gaze.

"So we finally made it," McCoy said. "A part of me is in disbelief and wants to tell me it was only a dream."

"No, that was very real," Kirk said and put his arm around McCoy's waistline. He faced him. "You're back to us, Bones. Finally. Which means that this here — " he slightly yanked the locked chain around McCoy's neck "– isn't necessary anymore." 

"Oh," McCoy said and reached up to touch the triangle with his fingertips. "I don't mind wearing it."

"People will give you weird looks when they see it," Kirk said. 

"Maybe I don't mind that either."

"I see," Kirk said thoughtfully. "You've talked with Max a lot."

"Nothing I haven't thought about before too."

"It's alright by me." Kirk shrugged. "But you should talk to Spock; I'm not sure what he'll say."

"I think he's fine with it," McCoy said. He hugged Kirk. "Love you, Jim. Love you both so much." 

"I know. Love you both more than words can say too." Kirk took McCoy in a tight embrace. 

"Guess we should get back to Max now," McCoy murmured after a moment. Kirk released his grip and they stepped apart with more effort than expected. The way to the kitchen seemed overly long, and it became clear to them that they wouldn't be able to muster normal behavior. 

But they found out that they didn't have to for long — in the kitchen, there was Moira, lively talking with their guest. Her flitter was parked right outside the back door, with Max's luggage already peeking through its open hatch.

"Hi Len, hi Jim," she said. "Tried your coffee — it's lousy."

"Max made it," Kirk said. "I deny all responsibility." He leaned against the table without taking a seat and took his cup, sipping the cold liquid. 

McCoy gave her a short hug. "I see you've come to get Max," he said. 

"He gave me a call," she said simply. McCoy smiled, wondering what exactly Max had said, but didn't mind it either. Moira knew enough about them all; she wasn't really a stranger. And one day she'd understand them better. He nodded and went to Kirk's side in a deeply felt need for closeness. 

Max looked at them with a strange smile. "I told her you were busy, and offered her breakfast. But she didn't like your rolls either."

"They're from the bakery you recommended to us, Moira," McCoy stated.

"I know, but they got worse since I last tried them," she replied. "Next time, I'll give you some of mine. Maybe that's enough incentive to make you eat more, Len."

"He's doing fine," Kirk said, with more than a slight challenge. McCoy put his palm on his lover's shoulder. They'd have to get away from here very quickly; their control was totally going to hell, and only Spock would be able to ground them.

"Spock told us to give our regards to you," McCoy said to Max. "He said it was a pleasure meeting you and he hopes for more."

"Give him my regards too," Max said. "It was wonderful to meet you, all of you. But I think it's time for me to leave." Moira already slipped from her stool and went to the door. "See you soon," she said and left before McCoy could say anything. 

Max rose from his seat too. "Len," he said and drew closer to McCoy. They clasped hands. "Take care, Len. And have a good, enjoyable time," Max said with a smile. He didn't lean in for a kiss, and McCoy was glad about that.

"I'll show you to the flitter," Kirk said and walked around the table. They moved out of the door, and unable to hold back anymore, McCoy bolted to the bedroom. 

*

"Hope you had a great time," Kirk said. "Can't tell you how good it was to have you here."

"I saw it and felt it, Jim." Max smiled. "Take care too." He hugged him, placing a kiss on Kirk's cheek. "And now go back to them. I can see it's urgent."

"Yes," Kirk admitted. "It's…" He wanted to say something, but he didn't find the words to express what was going on with them at the moment. It left him with a helpless little shrug.

"It's okay, Jim. You don't have to explain anything." Max closed his hand around Kirk's upper arm, squeezing it hard. "See you in a while."

"Yes." Kirk swallowed hard. "Whenever you're on earth, give me a call. Or any of us."

"Sure." Max stepped back, then turned and climbed into the flitter. When he closed the door, he winked at Kirk. The flitter quickly rose, then dove nose forward over the yard and into the direction of Moira's farm.

Kirk hugged himself; it was cold, he was cold. He needed to get warm, and there was only one place where he'd be able to find the warmth he needed right now — in the arms of his lovers. He hasted inside and jogged through the living room and along the corridor, opening the door of the bedroom not really quietly.

Spock and McCoy already lay in bed, but were awake and looking at him when he stepped in. He stripped, feeling his shirt rip when it didn't come off quickly enough. Then he slipped into bed with them, wedging himself behind McCoy. They faced Spock; the Vulcan lay on his side and had put a cushion under his chest to support him in the slightly uncomfortable position. He offered his hands, and they nodded. One settled on McCoy's face, one on Kirk's. There was the bond again, pulling them together like magic. For a second, Kirk wasn't able to breathe; it was so close, so tight, so overwhelming…but then they merged fully and there was only warmth.

*

When they returned to reality, it was already getting dark outside again. They kept cuddling each other for a while longer, finding it too hard to break the physical contact — but finally, McCoy sat up with a yawn. "I need to go to the bathroom. Now." He managed to crouch out from his middle position and padded to the door. 

"I'm coming with you," Kirk said and followed him. They were just in the bathroom when Spock joined them. Once they were all refreshed, Kirk said, "What about using the bath tub? My back could use a bit of relief." He stretched his body. 

"I need something to eat first," McCoy said. "I'm absolutely starving. I think I last had food yesterday morning, but I'm not even sure."

"I agree. I'm in dire need of some nourishment," Spock said. 

"Alright; first food, then bath tub," Kirk replied. 

They went to the kitchen together, sharing the work between them; Spock cleaning away the leftovers of the breakfast, McCoy preparing a strong coffee and setting up fresh plates, and Kirk giving another pasta recipe a try. The result left his lovers without complaints, and they only stopped eating when all the pasta was gone.

Kirk eyed McCoy's plate with relief; he'd piled quite a lot of food on it, but McCoy had eaten it all, even had a second helping. McCoy looked relaxed, a light smile in his features; he looked beautiful in Kirk's eyes.

Kirk swallowed hard; he really had it bad today, with these melds. They were great, but he didn't want to jump into one again right away. 

"Are you alright, Jim?" Spock asked in concern, and he looked up, meeting the Vulcan's gaze.

"Yes, fine," Kirk said. "I'm just a bit over-emotional." 

"I know what you mean," McCoy said with a nod. "Part of me wants to keep hold on you like mad. But I'm fighting the urge right now — it feels like too much."

"I experience a similar need," Spock said. "But I also must admit that I experience a profound mental tiredness. I would not be able to stabilize another deep meld at the moment."

"Nobody's asking you to." McCoy covered Spock's hand with his own. "Now that we know that we can achieve it, there's no need to get burnt out by overdoing it. The dosage makes the drug."

"Exactly, doctor," Spock agreed. 

"Maybe we should go swimming instead of the bath tub," Kirk suggested. "It's not really supportive of abstinence."

"True." McCoy laughed quietly. They cleared the table and went down into the basement. Kirk tried not to think about the dungeon when they crossed its door, but the memories of his night with Max returned rather surprisingly. He shook his head as he felt his erection grow; between the bond and his natural libido, this vacation was being strenuous for his dick. So much for abstinence.

When they stripped, Kirk saw that McCoy gazed down on it, but didn't say a thing. He stood at the edge of the pool and dived into the cool water with verve. 

"Brrr," McCoy said and slowly went down the staircase to acclimate to the temperature. At least, he tried, but Kirk took hold of his ankle and soon yanked him down. McCoy spluttered.

"What's it with this pool, Jim, that you always need to haul me in?" McCoy said. It probably should have sounded cranky, but he was too much in a happy haze to manage that. Laughing, Kirk pulled him close and into a kiss. Then he looked for Spock.

"Come in," he said and waved at the Vulcan who reluctantly stood at the edge of the pool.

"I seem to have forgotten about the temperature difference compared to the bath tub," Spock said and tightly crossed his arms in front of his chest with a visible shiver.

"Just jump in — it's great once you're in," Kirk said. 

"He's right," McCoy agreed, and paddled into the middle. There he treaded water. "Come on in, Spock!"

Summoning his control, Spock drew closer until his toes sat on the edge of the pool, already being bathed by the water. Then he stretched out his hands and, after another moment of hesitation, dived into the pool. He resurfaced quickly and swam the full length with powerful strokes. At the end of the pool, he turned and swam back to the other men.

"You were correct. The temperature is agreeable once you get used to it," Spock said, although Kirk could still see him shivering, the color of his lips turning a darker green. But it was McCoy who called Spock on his lie. 

"Get out and up to the bath tub before you get a cold," McCoy said to the Vulcan. "I can feel your discomfort in my very bones." 

Kirk nodded. "Get out, commander," he said, enough of an order to make Spock's brow rise. "I mean it."

"And what will you do?" Spock asked.

"We're going to swim a bit and join you in the bath tub once it's full of steaming, hot water," Kirk said. McCoy nodded. 

Spock gave in and left. Kirk sighed when he saw him hastening to close a towel around his body. "I tend to forget how cold this must be to him," he said.

McCoy swam to his side. "Hey, normally it would be alright. But he's really done, I think. He's taking most of the strain from the melds, and it's tiring him." 

"Yes." 

They swam ten rows together, at a medium tempo. It still tired McCoy too, and they left the pool earlier than planned.

"I should exercise more," McCoy said when he toweled his legs.

"You keep saying that, Bones, but you never do anything about it."

"Yes," McCoy admitted. 

"Some more muscle would be good." Kirk poked McCoy's upper arm.

McCoy frowned slightly. "Never had many muscles to begin with. Not like Max." He laced a towel around his body and had enough of it left to tie a knot. 

Kirk dried himself, then hung his towel over his shoulder when they left the pool area together. "I like you the way you are, except for a little bit more of flesh," he said and put his arm around McCoy's shoulder.

"Thanks, good to know," McCoy said, his irrepressible grin returning. They went to the bathroom and found the bath tub already filled and with a relaxed Vulcan in it. 

"Lobster temperature," McCoy said after testing it with his elbow. He went into it anyway, taking a seat next to Spock. The water level was raised further when Kirk joined them, and they ended up seated with the hot liquid up to their necks.

"Great," Kirk said, and they all fell silent for a while, completely relaxing in the warmth. The pool had an automatic temperature control, and never turned cool, no matter how long you sat in it. It was really heaven-sent, Kirk thought, remembering McCoy's words from some days ago. He was faintly thinking of Max, then of the melds; he felt his mind drifting and…

"Wake up, Jim," someone said softly, and Kirk lifted his heavy lids with effort. Spock was at his side, supporting his head.

"I fell asleep? Sorry," Kirk murmured. 

"We're all tired," McCoy said. "Let's get out and back to the bedroom before we drown." 

They left the pool, quickly dried themselves and padded over the corridor. The room was dark, the sun set already. The bed was looking rather chaotic from their last meld, the sheets and cushions wildly distributed over it, but they didn't care. Maneuvering the bedding slightly into place, they sank down on the bed again, searching for closeness without any deeper mental joining. There was some hugging, but then sleep claimed them all.

* 

When McCoy opened his eyes, it was already later in the day, judging from the light outside. The other two were gone; he woke up to an empty bed and touched the free space next to him with a sigh. Most of his life, this was standard, even in San Francisco. Each of them still had his own place of living if they weren't on the ship — Spock in the embassy, McCoy at Starfleet Hospital and Kirk his apartment, the place they usually met. But these vacations showed him how it might feel to share more time with his lovers. 

Well, maybe it would soon be too close, McCoy thought as he went up and slipped into his bathrobe. In dire need of a toilet, he went to the bathroom. 

"Sure, Len, sour grapes," he chided himself as he looked in the mirror, staring in his own light-blue eyes. "You're almost sitting in each other laps all those times on the ship, but tell yourself that you wouldn't be able to share an apartment? Oh glorious lie."

There was a knock at the door, and before he could say a thing, Kirk looked inside. "Hey Bones," he said with a big smile and drew close. They kissed for a moment. When they parted, Kirk looked into the mirror. "I'm getting gray," he said critically and combed through his hair. 

"You've been dyeing it for twenty years, Jim," McCoy said, amused.

"Yes. But it's constant work." Kirk examined McCoy's hair in the mirror. "You could get it dyed too. Sometimes I think you're trying to look older than you are."

"Hey, what happened to 'I love you the way you are'?" McCoy shook his head, deciding to change the theme. "Where's Spock, by the way?"

"He left a note in the kitchen, right next to the fresh coffee and the rolls, that he'll be back at high noon." Kirk moved behind McCoy. They faced the mirror as Kirk's fingers unlaced the belt of McCoy's bathrobe from behind. "Let's take a shower," Kirk said, shifting the open robe down McCoy's shoulders. "Together." His fingers stroked McCoy's chest from the nipples down to the hips.

McCoy turned in his arms. "Great idea." He opened Kirk's bathrobe, pushing it over the broad shoulders. It fell to the floor without anyone caring. Bending his head he caught the left nipple and sucked it in his mouth. Kirk moaned, and when it was hard, McCoy teased it with his teeth, slightly grating over it. At his right thigh, he could feel Jim's erection poking into his flesh, and he reached down and closed his hand around it. His lover instantly mirrored this caress, catching McCoy's own member. They touched each other for a while, expertedly pushing each other towards orgasm — but then they stilled as they registered the steps in the corridor. 

"Spock?" Kirk asked aloud, and seconds later the Vulcan looked through the half-open bathroom door. "Come in and join us."

Spock stepped into the frame, still wearing his outdoor clothes. "I should change," he said, but his lovers shook their heads. "We'll change it for you," Kirk said, and pulled him into the room.

"Do you know how sexy you look in jeans?" McCoy said and went to his knees, opening the fly of Spock's pants. 

"He's right," Kirk said and opened the buttons of Spock's shirt to reveal the furry chest. "And you're wearing my shirt."

"It was the only fresh one left," Spock admitted, offering no resistance to the actions of his lovers. When McCoy slipped the jeans down his hips, he shifted to support the removal. 

McCoy delved his fingers into Spock's shorts and uncovered the growing erection. He put his mouth around it and bathed the member in its warmth, his hands tightly around the base. Hearing the soft moan above him was firing his own arousal, bringing him to the brink of orgasm again. 

"Meld us," he could Kirk's voice saying. "Meld with Bones and me."

McCoy broke the hold on Spock's erection and stared up. Spock was frozen, visibly thinking. 

"Jim…" McCoy said, not sure what to say.

Kirk looked down on him with gleaming eyes. "If it's going to be frenzy, let me share it with you. Don't keep me out any longer."

McCoy and Spock gazed at each other. 

"Spock, if you can't do it today because you're still mentally exhausted, it's okay," Kirk said. "But if you can, then it's the right moment for it."

"Your decision, Spock," McCoy whispered, eyes still locked with the Vulcan. 

Spock wordlessly pulled away from them. 

"Spock, I –" Kirk started, slightly shocked, but stopped when he saw Spock's light smile. 

"This is not the right place for it; let us move to the bedroom," the Vulcan said and left the room. Kirk and McCoy exchanged a gaze, then followed swiftly. 

In the bedroom, Spock stripped and neatly put the clothes aside before he knelt down on the large bed. "Let me start with you, Jim," Spock said. 

"And you're sure you'll be able to pull Bones into our link?" Kirk asked in concern but knelt down next to him.

"If I start with Leonard, I won't be able to link to you anymore," Spock said matter-of-factly. 

"And all together? Like yesterday?" 

McCoy and Spock exchanged another gaze. 

"I'm not sure it'll work at all if we're not in a kind of sexual position, Spock," McCoy said thoughtfully. "We might just go into the deep meld like yesterday, without having any physical sex. Not that I mind, but it's not what Jim wants, I guess."

"Right." Kirk nodded. "I want to join into your special meld. If it's possible. And if you want me there."

"It's not about wanting, Jim. You're always welcome with us. We're just not sure how to do it," McCoy said. "Maybe in a cascade, Spock?" he asked. 

"Cascade?" Spock asked. 

"The three of us, penetrating in a row with you as the last one. You should be able to reach our faces. Not a great angle for melding, though."

Spock raised a brow, his light frown clearing. "That is not a major problem. We are still very much attuned to each other. Let us try the cascade, and then I will try to add the deep meld."

"On your knees, Jim," McCoy said and laughed.

"Admit it — you've wanted to say that line for years!" Kirk sputtered, unable to keep himself from joining the laughter. It brought a much needed break into their situation, a moment of catching a mental breath before moving onto an experiment with unclear outcome. 

"And knees would be a bad idea, actually," Kirk said and went up. "We need to stand, or my head will be too far away from Spock." He leaned against the wall, hands spread against it, legs slightly apart.

"Always jumping for the chance," McCoy said and joined him, kneading the round globes with strong fingers. "Just seeing you like this makes me hard again," he whispered. "It makes me want to push deep inside of you and fuck you very hard."

"Then why don't you stop talking and do something about it?" Kirk pushed his hips back at McCoy in a clear offering. McCoy closed his hand around his own erection, stroking it into greater firmness — but suddenly there was another hand displacing his. He groaned as Spock manipulated his member with expert hands. And it was Spock's fingers that guided his erection into Kirk's body. Once it was inside, the Vulcan slowly inserted his own erection into McCoy, wedging them all tightly together when he leaned against the construction with his full weight. 

"Oh fuck," Kirk gasped. "Let's do this more often."

"Yeah." McCoy shifted his hips back and forth. He impaled, he was impaled, and it was an incredible feeling. For a moment, they just moved in unison, enjoying the friction; then, when they were fully attuned in their movements and rocked in rhythm, McCoy could feel Spock's fingertips on his face. He braced himself for the meld between them, the moment in which they'd lose control. He tried not to fear it, but there was some subconscious concern lingering around the edges, and he realized he wasn't as open and ready for it as usual, no matter how horny he was right now. The fingers seemed to emit electric charges as they drew closer, and he idly wondered if Jim felt the same. There were sparks, bioelectrical bolts, almost painful now, but the fingers still closed in and finally hit the right points. He drew a last shaking breath before the fire consumed him.

*

They fell into each other, all dark and red. They coiled up, hungry, driven, to complete what had been broken, but it was out of reach, lost, gone, disrupted. There was something missing or too much, they didn't know; it was different, red stones, shaking ground, challenged to survive. They fell deeper than ever, long shafts, gray walls, down and down and there was no ground beneath them, they just kept falling until they fell through the hole, the sun, out and out, a slope, bending them back to the beginning, faces, voices, close, near, distant, one one one they would be one if they only could keep falling into this sun they would catch it hold it it was one they were one it was so close so near so yes yes yes… 

*

"Yes," Spock gasped, and had just time enough to wonder what was going on — then his orgasm erupted so hard that he arched in pain, a small cry escaping his shattered self. He fought to catch his breath, his chest aching, two imaginary lines from his mind to his fingertips burning as if etched. He sagged without realizing that he was sinking onto another body; only when it moved too did he shift to make some room. He slipped down, too weak to keep himself up. It had to be the floor, a part of his brain registered. But he was quickly sinking back into the hazy leftovers of the torn meld, not yet able to face the real world. His body coiling, he allowed his mind to reel in slow circles, slowly closing in on consciousness.

"Spock!" He was called, but couldn't answer. There were more calls, but it was like walking over grass in the gray fog of a Terran morning, and they were far away from him, calling for him over the hills. There was mist, clouding his path; he was lost in the fields, lost in his own world. His hands searched where his eyes failed, and he grasped for straws, trying to get a hold on something, anything, but he failed, again and again. Panic rose in him, a tight suffocating band around his chest. He was lost, he was –

There was pain, physical — real. And again. The fog left, clearing with the next slaps, until he was able to open his eyes, his hand an irremovable barrier against the next slap before he even saw it coming.

"Kroykah!" he snapped, the conditioning of his youth ingrained, tied to the bottom layers of his mental disciplines. The arm in his hand snapped too and he felt the pain traveling over the remains of the meld, the lingering traces of the union they had shared. He shook his head, trying to clear his thoughts further; then looked up again to see his lovers' faces, concern written all over them.

"Spock — you're alright?" McCoy asked, clamping his right arm with his left hand.

"Hey, Spock, come back," Kirk said.

"Leonard — I hurt you," Spock said, reaching out for the arm without touching it. "It should never have happened," he stated.

"Hey, nothing too bad," McCoy tried to ease him, but Spock wildly shook his head.

"No, this was wrong, not normal, not as it should have been. I lost control, I got lost, I lost you in there –"

"Spock," McCoy said sharply, closing his unhurt hand under Spock's chin. "Look at me. Everything's okay. We're all out of the meld, nobody's really hurt."

"No, it…no." Spock's chest felt just as tight as before, and he harshly sucked in air, trying to stop the feeling of suffocation. "It's not as it should have been," he stuttered.

He could hear them speaking, low voices that registered and yet didn't; he lost focus again and reached out. His hand was captured by cooler fingers and tightly held. Something was pressed against his arm and shot something into his system, and within seconds, he felt himself ease, the panic leaving his body. He mentally sagged in the hazy feeling with relief, welcoming the darkness that settled around him. 

*

McCoy sagged back on his heels, curled over his broken arm. "Seems he's in a kind of shock," he said. 

"Yeah, like you," Kirk pressed out. He helped McCoy up on the bed, putting a cushion under his lower legs and trying to measure his pulse; Bones looked much too pale, his breathing flat and irregular.

"It's alright," McCoy murmured. "I can manage. There's a bone knitter in the kit. Give it to me."

"You're doing nothing right now," Kirk stated. "Just try to calm down for a moment." He held McCoy's hand, keeping an eye on the sedated Vulcan.

"I'm so sorry, Bones," he said. "I'm feeling so miserable. Last time when I made you meld with each other for me, it was already a bit of a disaster. And now this…." 

"Hey, we'll manage," McCoy whispered, eyes closed.

"Bones…" Kirk said, wondering if he'd ever be able to fix what he'd just damaged by pushing them into yet another situation they didn't really want to go into.

"Jim -" McCoy said.

"Yes?" 

Bones tightly clasped his hand. "We wanted it too. We didn't want to accept that we might not be ready for it, okay? It wasn't your fault alone."

"Hmmm-mm," Kirk said, disbelieving. He put a blanket over each of his lovers to keep them warm, then went to get McCoy's medical tricorder from the kitchen where he had seen it last. When he returned, McCoy had fallen into a kind of exhausted sleep. 

Kirk ran the instrument over McCoy first, then over Spock, but like every time, he had problems reading most of the information the display offered. He'd analyze rocks any time, but for medical data, Kirk heavily relied on McCoy and his team — or on Spock — to interpret it and translate the contents for him as a base for his decision. 

It made Kirk feel rather helpless right now, and for a moment he wondered if he should call the medical helpline — but they'd take some time getting here in the outskirts, and it didn't look as if his lovers were in real danger. Besides, they all hated to have their privacy invaded unless it was absolutely necessary, and how would Kirk explain two nude men developing serious bruises in his bedroom without evoking critical questions? And so he just kept sitting next to McCoy, one eye on Spock, with an increasing tension in his chest. 

*

McCoy opened his eyes with effort, rolling them to see his surroundings. His mouth was dry, his tongue stuck to the upper part of his jaw. In his right arm, there was a low, pulsing ache.

"Spock," he croaked as he remembered what had happened. "Spock?"

"It's alright, Bones," Kirk said. "Don't move. He's still out."

McCoy closed his eyes again, nodding. "Can I get something to drink?"

"Sure," Kirk said. Steps left and returned quickly. The water from the tap was refreshing, pushing McCoy into a fully awake state.

"Help me up," he said, and with Kirk's support moved into a cross-legged position. He looked down at Spock. "Looks good," he said. "Give me the bone knitter and the hypo set. No use waiting till it's really inflamed." He gasped a little as he gave himself a shot of painkillers.

"You can diagnose Spock's state by looking at him?" Kirk asked critically. "I've got the tricorder here."

"Well, not everything. But I can see the color of his face and ear tips, and I can sense how he feels. But give me the tricorder." McCoy took it with his left hand and ran it over Spock, then briefly over himself. 

"Everything in acceptable range. He's out, but he'll wake up soon."

"I hope so," Kirk said and helped McCoy to use the knitter.

When they were done, McCoy experimentally moved his arm and hand. "Yeah, better." He nodded at Kirk with a smile. "You had quite a shock too, right? Sorry that I wasn't in any shape to quiet your fears."

Kirk nodded. "It's very hard to watch you like this. It reminds me of some very…ugly situations," he said quietly. 

"We're not going to die in a meld, Jim. There's always the ingrained instinct for self-protection that is so deep down in the old parts of our brains that we can't just give up and die in it."

"Vulcans can will themselves to die, can't say?"

"Only the very best, Jim. Like the Kohlinaru. Everyone else fails at that hard limit."

"He was at Gol."

McCoy shook his head. "He was, but he hasn't spent the last years in Vulcanly controlled celibacy, as you should know. And with being in my brain, that perfect control went to hell anyway."

Kirk rubbed his forehead. "So what are we going to do? Just wait?"

"Yes." McCoy put a hand on Kirk's folded legs. "Just wait."

*

They sat for a little while longer, until Spock finally opened his eyes. McCoy sank down next to him on the floor, lightly patting his face.

"Spock — are you with us?"

The gaze focused, darting back and forth between them.

"Jim…Leonard…what happened?"

"You were thrown out of the meld in a kind of mental crash landing."

Spock looked at McCoy, visibly fighting to remember.

"I gave you a tranquilizer shot to bring you down," McCoy said.

Spock nodded. "I…" He frowned. "I hurt you?"

"It's already fixed. Nothing my rattles and beads couldn't heal."

Spock closed his eyes again. "Jim?"

"Right here," Kirk said, a lump in his throat. "I'm sorry, Spock."

A brow rose, although the eyes remained closed. "Apologies are irrelevant. It was an experiment. I will learn from it."

"I still hate myself for pushing you –" 

"Stop it," McCoy interrupted him. "Didn't you learn yet that you can push us all you want but if we don't want to get pushed, here between us, you're not going to achieve anything? Don't mix up your officers with your lovers, Jim."

Kirk combed his hair. "I can't distinguish it completely. And you can't either, Bones. You're the doctor, the friend and the lover. You're trying to walk in three different kinds of boots all the time, but it doesn't work like that. We're not split in halves; we're combinations, having all aspects."

"He is right, Leonard," Spock said and rose up on his elbows. "It is futile to attempt a separation of the various aspects. Your tendency to care for others at the expense of your own well-being, for example, is prevalent in public and private surroundings."

"I still say that this wasn't a situation into which we were ordered by Captain Kirk, but one that we were asked for by Jim, our lover," McCoy said sharply. "There wouldn't be reprimands or an entry in our files for saying no, so it's not his responsibility alone which he should shoulder now. I'm not a kid — I've got my own life, and I'm still making decisions for myself and not because either of you forces or orders me to."

"Relationships are built on compromise," Spock said. "When you look at it logically, all your decisions in the last years were influenced by our relationship. You cannot even distance your fleet career from us."

McCoy rolled his eyes. "So what? The decision to try this meld — and that is what we're really talking about — was one we took together. I'm not willing to accept Jim's sole guilt."

Spock frowned, two sharp lines above his nose. "If he diddn't shoulder it, you would probably criticize him for wanting the sexual deep meld prematurely although we advised him of possible risks. But you cannot accept other martyrs besides yourself."

"Who's the bigger martyr of us, please?" McCoy pressed out. "I tell you something, Mister Spock. The day I can't go and shit anymore without one of you pulling my strings, you can take all the responsibility and blame for me you want. Up till then, it's still my own." McCoy went up, eyes blazing.

"Bones, please," Kirk said, offering his hand. 

"Fuck it," McCoy hurled at him and left the bedroom in a rush.

Kirk buried his face in his palms. "Damn."

"Jim," Spock said and fully sat up on the floor, placing his hand on Kirk's legs. "He is acting illogically. He will come back."

Kirk put his elbows on his knees and folded his hands, one over the other. Then he dropped his chin down on them, taking a deep breath. "I don't know. Seems Max was right to warn me, wasn't he?" He looked at Spock, unable to hide his current despair. 

Spock folded his arms around his parallel, slightly bent legs. "Max is a very insightful man, but he is not the one 'walking in our shoes', as humans call it. We are used to the way you are, Jim."

"Pushy. Overly egocentric. Putting my own wishes over those of my lovers." Kirk smiled grimly.

"It is one of your greatest strengths to see beyond the moment, to embrace possibilities and think outside the box. There is no such thing as an unsolvable situation for you." 

"Yeah, I'm good at cheating," Kirk said. "Even death. And good at boldly going where you say I shouldn't."

"Your determination to push limits is one of the reasons we are still alive and able to be here, together. But it can also be a weakness."

Kirk sighed. "I know. Sometimes I think back on the mountain, my fall…what did I want to prove? That I was still going strong, that I would survive every challenge? Or was I trying to test the limits of what you can accept from me? Did I try to push the boundaries of our relationship on some subconscious level, to prove to myself that you both would always stay with me, no matter how much I fucked up?"

Spock shifted into a cross-legged position, lacing his fingers in thought. "Only you can answer that for yourself, Jim. There was a moment in our lives, long before we were lovers, where you indeed pushed too hard — and we left. But we came back in the V'Ger incident."

"Only you came back on your own. McCoy was drafted by me."

"But he stayed, which was his own free choice."

Kirk stared down on the carpeted floor. "Why do you bear with me, Spock? My pushing, my illogical decision based on hunches, my overstepping of rules, boundaries, sensibilities…"

"Do you really need to ask, Jim?" Spock cocked an eyebrow at him. "All those are aspects of your personality — without them you would not be who you are. I accept all of you. We are one, never parted. You will not be able to get rid of me for ever more."

"And Bones?"

"Leonard can only speak for himself. But he stayed, through everything, against all odds. What more proof do you need to rely on us through ever challenging situations in your life? What do you want from us to be truly, really convinced that we will never leave you? Which you connect to your demise in your mind."

Kirk shrugged helplessly. "I don't know. Maybe I just can't help wondering when I'm going to lose you again, maybe because of my own faults like with Khan, on a mission somehow, or because I found the one spot where I pushed too far."

"This is unlikely, after so many years."

"I don't know. I don't know if I have been shoving Bones around too much lately. Or today, with that meld. I don't want to, but there was something in his behavior, in his avoidance of talking to us that made me want me to push him."

"I agreed with your assessment of the situation. I felt he was drifting somehow, but I was unable to offer help. I relied on you to find a solution."

"But I didn't."

"Enough for him to accept the reality of a true 'us'. Of the changes that took place over the years. Of his own subconscious wishes and cravings. It was one of the important reasons that we achieved the three-way-meld this time, which had failed before."

"Because he fucked Max?" Kirk laughed quietly. 

Spock shook his head. "Because he changed from a more passive acceptance of our situation to a proactive affirmation of all its implications."

"I don't feel like he's really chosen us yet. He keeps bobbing back, fleeing us instead of talking." 

"Everyone has his own strategy for dealing with unpleasant moments, Jim. It isn't much different from you talking a ride, or me slipping into meditation." 

"Well, you didn't slip away in the middle of a debate so far," Kirk stated. "I don't get it — when we had the clash with Sybok, he was right behind me like always, at my — at our side. And now that we're here, he's…leaving us." 

"We partly forced him to join our side, Jim. Did you realize he was the only human to resist Sybok after his pain was supposed to have gone?"

"Yes." Kirk nodded. "I thought it was because of the bond."

"We counter-manipulated him, Jim. We called on his deeply felt duty to us, nothing else. And as far as I saw in our last melds, Sybok's manipulations had failed, leaving a deeper wound behind than Leonard had experienced before this encounter. He only doesn't want to share this with us so that I would not feel guilty for being unable to stop Sybok."

"But he was excusing your actions all the time, Spock. He was a lot more sympathetic than I was. It makes no sense to me," Kirk said with a deep frown.

"He can feel all of this, because it is in his caring aspect. He wants to protect me. And if it were about you, he would do the same. Did you not realize that if one of us criticizes the other, the third one will usually defend the criticized one?"

"Yes, sure."

"In a way, this is not normal. It is good for our balance — we tend to have changing fronts and viewpoints in discussions. If we didn't have that, one of us would feel left out in the end and become the third wheel."

"Which is Bones' constant fear."

"Illogical, but yes, it is. It has its source in us being the command team, on the bridge together. His position is different to ours — always was and always will be." 

Kirk palmed his face again. "I don't know, I –"

The door opened, and Kirk looked up to see McCoy standing in its frame.

"Bones?" he asked, a lump in his throat.

"Jim — Spock –" McCoy said and made two hesitating steps into the room. "I'm sorry." He took a deep breath, staring down on the floor for a moment before facing them again. "I…overreacted. It was stupid. Can you forgive me?"

"It's okay, Bones," Kirk said.

"No, it's not. This wasn't simply about you pushing me or anything. It was…like a flashback to all those situations someone took advantage of me. It didn't have much to do with you." McCoy remained in the middle of the room, not drawing closer.

"Was it Sybok? Spock told me that he'd hit you really hard by bringing back the death of your father." Kirk shed a glance at the Vulcan.

McCoy shook his head. "I think Sybok really tried to heal other people's pain, though it didn't work out in the long run. But a part of me realized during the stay here that this was the lesser problem. No, it was to understand that I'm prone to being maneuvered into positions by the people I care for. Like my father. Like you, or Spock. Even mirror Spock. And remember Nancy? Just the same."

"Mirror Spock?" Kirk asked in surprise.

"Never told you about it," McCoy admitted. "When we were over there, he melded with me."

"You allowed him –?" Realization dawned at Kirk, and his eyes grew large. "He forced it on you." 

"He only could do that because I cared too much for Spock and stayed behind. He was using my own weakness against me." 

Kirk's gaze darted from McCoy to Spock. "Spock, did you know that?" he asked in disbelief.

The Vulcan nodded. "I learned about it years later, after the katra transfer."

"And why didn't you tell me?" Kirk asked sharply.

"Because I didn't want him to, Jim," McCoy answered for the Vulcan. "It was long gone. There was no reason to bring it up."

"So when Spock put his katra in you, you saw it as….rape?"

"No. First of all, my brain didn't get it until you told me. And my subconscious only knew that something was wrong, but couldn't pinpoint it. It got added to the growing pile, but I could still joke about it. Until the pile toppled over recently."

McCoy folded his arms in front of his chest with a slight shiver. "I don't want to be a victim, Jim. Even if there are moments when I know I am, or know that I'm overpowered, I need to feel my own strength, feel that I can handle the aftermath. I know that I've given up a lot of my personal independence since I've been with you, in various ways. I just…don't want to have it pushed in my face. Call it cognitive dissonance, but I mean it. It's a thin line at times. If you want me to stay with you at all, you need to be able to give me the room to feel my own muscles. Or it won't work, and I'll run away until, one day, I won't come back."

For a second, they only looked at him and each other, letting the words sink in. It seemed suddenly very cold in the room; they were standing at an unexpected crossroad where the wind was icy, the roads unknown. Kirk knew it wouldn't be enough to just nod and say they'd manage…if they weren't sure. And he could only say he'd try, nothing more. He shifted his eyes to Spock in a quiet plea for help, and the Vulcan accepted it.

Spock rose from the bed to face his partner on the same level. "Leonard. I cannot make undone what has happened in the past, neither my own actions nor those of others. I was aware of your distress, but not to the degree you really experienced it, because I was accepting your wish for privacy. We try to hold back our concern for you, but we fail at times. However, the concern is sincere, even if unwelcome by you in its extent. We are bonded; while Jim might not actually feel it at all times, I do. When you draw away, it is painful. It is not something a Vulcan would ever do except in a challenge, and I had to learn that your reason was self-protection, not rejection."

"I didn't know that," McCoy whispered.

"There are many things we do not talk about because we all avoid them," Spock said with a glance at Kirk. "None of us carry our deepest emotions on our sleeve. In a way, we all know that there might be moments in which we need to step aside from our deeply felt…love…and leave towards an unknown fate — or worse, see the other ones leave. We cannot change this, nor would we want to. We are connected over and with the Enterprise and her missions. For decades, we accepted what duty imposed on us, paying with the life of dearest friends and family."

The humans nodded, unable to find words.

"However, here, in this house, we are able to forget about our normal situation. It allows us to make new experiences; it also brings us closer than we normally are. There are repercussions of this closeness. It does impose unusual strain on us and between us at times. I am not able to meditate as I should and experimented with more emotions at the same time. Therefore I lack some control, which was one of the reasons for the unexpected break of the meld. Leonard is like an erratic yo-yo, moving back and forth without finding an emotionally stable position between closeness and distance. Jim is seeing the possibilities, and it makes him move forward as it is in his character. It also makes him ignore stop points at times, not accepting an unspoken 'No'."

Spock took a deep breath. "I do not see our relationship in any danger, as long as we accept the limitations of each other in this surrounding, and that we may not be as controlled and professional in our behavior as onboard of the Enterprise. In my personal opinion, the new experiences are well worth the few experiments that failed. I found the three-way-meld between us extremely satisfying on an emotional level, and am positive that we will achieve it in a sexual moment in the future…when we are ready, each of us in his own way." 

McCoy nodded. Kirk nodded too, only now finding his arms tightly clamped around his chest. Spock had said everything important; he didn't feel like adding anything to it. He went up, pulling his lovers into a tight embrace. They hugged him, strong arms enfolding him, acknowledging the need between them to once again seal their union and their differences along with it. There would be more mistakes in the future, but no matter what it was and who made it, they'd be able to fix it. Always.

*

"That's the last one," McCoy said and lifted his backpack into the flitter. He looked back at the house. "Isn't it incredible how this place works on us? As if it has a life of its own. Whenever we're leaving, I feel emotionally worn out…and still so much better than before. It's always a rocky ride, but we've once again managed to stay in the saddle." His fingers touched the small stone triangle that now hung on a normal leather necklace under his shirt. Still not fleet standard, but the world would adjust to it. 

Kirk put his arm around McCoy's waistline. "Yes. It's as if the house absorbed all the emotions that it saw over the years…and is now having a ball with us."

Spock went out of the door, locking it to his voice. "Superstitious, gentlemen?" he asked with a rising brow. 

"Only a bit. I think they're friendly ghosts around here." Kirk said with a twinkle. McCoy smiled deeply, his wrinkles crinkling. 

Spock drew closer. "I will take the back seat."

McCoy shook his head. "Nope. That's my place."

"I think we are due for a change," Spock said.

"In the back seat I can ignore the way Jim dives down over the rivers. I'll get puking sick if I sit in front."

Kirk unlaced from McCoy and took three steps into the flitter. "I'll take the back seat, and Spock will fly." He slipped into the comfortable seat and put his feet up. "Come on, what are you waiting for?" he said when his lovers hesitated. "That's an order!"

Spock and McCoy exchanged a bemused glance; then they climbed into the flitter. 

"We're never going to change, are we?" McCoy asked, arranging his legs in the cabin. 

Spock shook his head. "No, doctor."

"Well, then let's go home," McCoy said and put his hand on Spock's thigh. The flitter rose into air and dived deep over the green grass before it picked up speed, the house soon vanishing in the distance.


End file.
